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MANY years ago, a friend, not specially nurtured on history, 
but carried away by a somewhat romantic account of the 
early struggles of modern Bulgaria, hazarded the suggestion, 
in my hearing, that the nineteenth century would provide in 
the future the most interesting and instructive period for 
historical study. 

The suggestion, which I have come to regard as a truism, 
appeared to me at the time to be highly paradoxical. My 
own studies had been for the most part historical, yet of the 
history of the nineteenth century I had obtained no more 
definite impression than that it constituted a flavourless com- 
post of legislation, constitution-making, party politics and the 
fortunes of ministries, vitiated by obvious prejudice, and only 
to be made palatable by scraps of gossip from the parliamentary 
green-room and occasional references to Continental warfare. 

No such impression can survive a detailed study of the 
period. Gradually the great personalities of Bismarck, Cavour, 
Napoleon III., and the Russian Czars disengage themselves 
from the mists ; the heroism of the Italian Risorgimento stirs 
the enthusiasm ; the complications of French politics excite the 
curiosity ; and all the international relations of, to-day stand 
out in a new light. 

But these discoveries were, in my case, made slowly and 
with difficulty. There was no one book providing a continuous 
narrative of the development and mutual relations of all the 
European Powers, which was not either too condensed and too 
impersonal to be interesting, or too guarded in its conclusions, 
too detailed in its information, and too allusive in its refer- 
ences to illuminate the darkness for a beginner. Any compre- 
hensive view of the period could only be obtained from a 
library. It was not difficult to understand why the school- 
master, the student, and the general reader had eschewed so 
uncharted a sea. 


It was, therefore, with the hope of providing something of 
which I had myself felt the want, that I undertook my present 
task. My efforts have been strictly limited alike by the purpose 
I had in view and by my own restricted opportunities. I have 
been dependent upon the labours of others to an extent which 
could only be represented adequately in a mass of references 
at the foot of every page, a form of acknowledgment impos- 
sible in a book of this size. But I wish here to express my 
sense of indebtedness in a few special cases. The Cambridge 
Modern History has naturally provided a quantity of in- 
formation not easily accessible elsewhere. For my account 
of Spanish affairs I have depended very largely on Mr. 
Butler Clarke's Modern Spain. Mr. Bolton King's History 
of Italian Unity, and Mr. G. M. Trevelyan's three volumes 
dealing with the career of Garibaldi have supplied me with 
the bulk of my matter for the Italian chapters. Mr. C. M. 
Andrewes' Historical Development of Modern Europe has been 
of constant service, especially for French and German affairs, 
and for the middle years of the century. Lastly, it would be 
difficult to over-estimate my obligation to Dr. J. Holland 
Rose's Development of the European Nations. From his 
book much of the information for my concluding Part has 
been derived, and his method of treatment I have found very 

I have not hesitated to express opinions. For these, no 
one is responsible but myself. They are at least not intended 
to justify or to incriminate any political party as such, and 
I have made no conscious attempt to suppress facts which 
tell against my conclusions. I have simply found that for 
purposes of criticism and arrangement a definite point of view 
has proved absolutely indispensable. It is only necessary to 
read the text-books of thirty or forty years ago to realise 
that the historian, no less than other enquirers, starts with 
certain assumptions, tacit or acknowledged ; that the historical 
standpoint of one generation will not necessarily be that of 
the next ; and that every change of standpoint entails a re- 
grouping and a re-interpretation of the facts. 



November, 1912. 





I. 1814 1 
















PUBLIC ... o 199 










MODERN NATIONS, 1852-1878 








POLITICS, 1878-1910 


TION OF EGYPT. ....... 410 











IT was on March 31, 1814, that the victorious armies of the 
Allies entered Paris. At the head of a splendid procession of 
cavalry and household troops, whose brilliant 
uniforms and accoutrements gave little evidence Entry of the 

>. i j. M 4 j > i i i Allies into 

of the toils of two years hard campaigning, rode Paris. 
Alexander I, Czar of Russia, and Frederick 
William III, the Prussian King. And, hostile as may have 
been the feelings of the proud and conquered city, there 
could have been scarcely one man in the dense crowds 
which lined the route, whose gaze was not attracted by the 
gracious and soldierly presence of the Czar. To him popular 
opinion ascribed a noble singleness of aim which had held the 
alliance together through its early failures and jealousies, 
as well as through its later successes and divergencies of 
interest, and had bent all its forces to the one object of making 
an end of the Napoleonic tyranny. Even vanquished France 
discerned a generous foe in one whose proclamations breathed 
friendship for a misguided people and a new spirit of humanity 
and brotherliness between the nations at large. Beside him 
the honest unexpressive features and stolid martial figure of 
Frederick William could have claimed but a pathetic interest ; 
chief victim through his own fatal irresolution of the malignant 
insolence of the fallen Emperor. 


That the splendour of the pageant, the unexpected lenity 
of the Allies and the personality of the Czar called forth some 
enthusiasm we may well believe, and there is little doubt 
that the friends of the exiled Bourbons exerted themselves to 
atone by extravagant demonstrations for anything that might 
be lacking in the popular welcome ; but the balance of evidence 
seems to prove that the scenes of intense excitement described 
by Englishmen who took part in the procession were coloured 
by their own feelings of triumph. Small wonder if it was so. 
Only two years had passed since Napoleon had marched across 
the Russian frontier at the head of an overwhelming army to 
punish the last organised government on the Continent of 
Europe that dared assert its independence of his will ; and 
the memories of men already middle-aged scarcely reached ' 
back to times before the long series of military successes of 
Revolutionary and Imperial France. With dramatic sudden- 
ness Nemesis had struck down the conqueror in his pride, and 
the day of deliverance had dawned. What wonder if the world 
was dazed and walked in dreams ? We may read Alison's.' 
description of the scenes of extravagant joy as the Allied 
monarchs crossed the Place de la Revolution, where Louis XVI, 
Marie Antoinette and the ^noblesse of France had perished by 
the guillotine, as an indication rather of the feelings of contem- 
porary Europe than of Parisian fickleness. There is dramatic 
if not historical truth in his conclusion : " The thunders of 
Heaven had now been launched ; the Revolution had been 
destroyed by the effect of its own principles, and the answer of 
God delivered, on the spot where its greatest crimes had been 
committed, by the mouths of the Revolutionists themselves." 
It was the supreme moment of illusion in a year of illu- 
sions, illusions soon to be forgotten. It is perhaps as 
much the unreality of the hopes which attended this first 
entry of the Allies into Paris as the greater share which 
England took in that second occupation, when Wellington 
and Blucher entered amid silent crowds at the head of the 
tattered and war-worn victors of Waterloo, that has diverted 
the attention of English readers from the earlier occasion. 

Yet this was the real fall of Napoleon. His meteoric 
reappearance during the Hundred Days was still to bring 
more woe upon France and to set Europe trem- 
blin g> but his European domination ended on 
April 13, when, after many days of struggling 
against the logic of facts and the inexorable determination of 

1814 3 

his own marshals to fight no more, he set his hand to his un- 
conditional abdication at Fontainebleau, and vainly attempted 
to make an end of his own life by poison. 

It is necessary to form some conception of the vast area 
over which the Napoleonic domination had extended. 
Enormous territories had been incorporated with 
France. Along the shores of the North Sea 
Belgium, Holland, part of Hanover and all the 
coasts of Northern Germany as far as the Elbe were included 
within her frontiers. A like fate had befallen all the German 
districts west of the Middle Rhine from Basle to the Belgian 
borders. In northern Italy the new French frontier bisected 
the peninsula from nortji to south along the line of the Ticino 
and the Apennines enclosing Savoy, Piedmont, Parma, Tuscany, 
and the greater part of the Papal States with Rome herself, 
within the limits of Imperial France. 

Nor did French influence end at the frontier. A whole 
array of dependent Kingdoms and leagues prolonged Napo- 
leonic authority towards the East and South. In 
%an evil day for himself the Emperor had set his 
brother Joseph upon the throne of Spain, ejecting 
the Bourbon dynasty. A Northern Italian Kingdom, with its 
capital at Milan, ruled by Napoleon himself through Eugene 
Beauharnais as Viceroy, had been founded in the Po valley, 
extending thence along the Adriatic coast, and embraced the 
districts of Lombardy and Venice north of the river, and to 
the south the Duchy of Modena with the Papal territories of 
the Romagna and the March of Ancona. The whole of the 
south of the peninsula as far as the Straits of Messina, part 
of the old Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, was ruled by 
Joachim Murat, one of the Emperor's marshals, with the 
title of King of Naples, while the dispossessed Bourbon 
dynasty still maintained themselves in Sicily under the pro- 
tection of the British fleet. In northern Germany the 
Kingdom of Westphalia, under Jerome Bonaparte, lay as an 
outpost against the Prussian frontier on the Elbe. Further 
to the East large portions of the ancient Kingdom of Poland 
had been constituted into a Grand Duchy of Warsaw, under 
the ruling house of Saxony, as a centre of French influence 
on the borders of Russia. 

Napoleon was also Protector of the Confederation of the 
Rhine and Mediator of the Swiss Confederation. These two 
leagues claim a special notice in view of subsequent events. 


Western Germany had consisted of a strange patch-work of 
small sovereign states, princedoms, bishoprics and the minute 

territories of Imperial Knights and of Free Cities, 
o?the d Rhine n owing an ill-defined and precarious allegiance to 
and Helvetic the Hapsburg Emperor at Vienna. It was the 

object of Napoleon's policy to " denationalise 
Germany " and to constitute within the German frontiers a 
group of powers dependent collectively upon himself, of which 
no single member should be strong enough to act alone. In 
1803, the ecclesiastical principalities were secularised, and 
their territories distributed among the lay princes. A 
similar fate overtook the smaller princes and Imperial Knights 
in 1806, when they were all " mediatised," that is, deprived of 
their " immediate " dependence on the Emperor and made the 
subjects of their more powerful neighbours. At the same 
time the Imperial authority itself was abolished, Francis II 
resigning the Crown of the " Holy Roman Empire," and a 
new confederation was established embracing all Germany 
except Austria and Prussia. The direction of the external 
policy of this Confederation of the Rhine, Napoleon kept in 
his own hands, and the members were firmly bound to their 
Protector by their desire to retain their ill-gotten gains. Less 
close was Napoleon's relation to Switzerland. The ancient 
Confederation of thirteen independent cantons, all differing 
from one another in institutions, habits, and personal rights, 
had passed under the levelling influence of French revolu- 
tionary teaching introduced by the French armies. The 
whole confederation had been constituted into an indivisible 
Republic on the French model, with the full approval of 
those classes and territories, whose interests the old cantonal 
governments had neglected. But local institutions and 
prejudices were too strong for the new arrangements, and 
Napoleon, alive to the strategic importance of Switzerland, 
interposed with an " Act of Mediation " by which he 
effected a successful compromise between the newly-established 
union and the old-fashioned federalism, thus securing a pre- 
dominant influence as the guardian of the compact and of 
the peace which it assured. 

Even this formidable array of dependent Kingdoms and 
leagues does not exhaust the list of the Imperial tributaries. 
Denmark and Prussia, nominally allies of France, really the 
slaves of the despotic policy of the Emperor, added their un- 
willing support to the colossal fabric. 

1814 5 

Thus the greater part of Europe had felt the weight of 
French authority. The feelings with which that authority 
was regarded were in fact as unanimous as they 
were widely diffused. Few perhaps deeply 
lamented the dispossessed dynasties or shared 
their impotent rage, and the spirit of national pride scarcely 
stirred in the petty principalities of Italy and Germany. It was 
neither the sentiment of loyalty nor as yet that of patriotism 
which Napoleon affronted. But the French Empire, built up 
for the sole purpose of making war, cast a shadow over the 
daily life of all its subjects. Only those whose dwellings lay in 
the track of the troops had seen homesteads burned and fields 
laid waste, and had experienced the systematic cruelty of re- 
quisitions and the horrors of private plundering. But near or 
distant from the seat of war all had felt the rigours of the con- 
scription which had dragged their sons away to die in a quarrel 
that they did not understand, and of the war-taxes which 
had crippled their industry and circumscribed their comfort. 
And, while taxation straitened all resources, the Continental 
System, by which Napoleon hoped to bring England to her 
knees by excluding her manufactures and colonial goods 
from European ports, drove up prices for the consumer and 
ruined the merchant. Nor were sentimental grievances 
lacking. The French officials who administered the system, 
the spies and police-agents who helped to maintain it, were 
both ubiquitous and autocratic. Religious feelings were 
wounded by confiscations of Church property, by the treat- 
ment of the Pope, and by the atheistic tendency of French 
revolutionary thought. The pillaging of pictures and statues 
for the glorification of the capital of France at the expense of 
her dependents was only one of many examples of the same 
selfish national aggrandisement, which ere long awoke in its 
victims national feelings hitherto dormant. 

Thus it was that the hopes of classes the most opposed to 
one another, and of interests and ways of thought the most 
diverse, had been brought to a common focus. 
Every existing evil was attributed to the state of 
war ; Peace was the object of all aspirations and 
wore all the alluring colours of a golden age ; hatred of the 
French became a sentiment shared by exiled princes, ruined 
merchants, and starving peasants. Brought into contact 
with contemporary thought all these materials took fire and 
were transmuted into new and strange shapes. It was the 


age of the Romantic movement, which began as a reaction in 
literature against the strict rules of art which had fettered the 
classical school, and against its preference for common-sense 
and reason as opposed to enthusiasm and imagination. The 
Romanticists admired individuality and heroism, and gave a 
free rein to the fancy. Such a movement could not long 
remain merely literary or artistic. It became also religious 
and political. The fervour of the Mediaeval Church was con- 
trasted alike with the cold morality of the eighteenth century 
and the dreary free-thought of the Revolution ; the heroic 
deeds of old, the sentiments of loyalty and patriotism with 
the commonplace ideals and mechanical uniformity of con- 
temporary bureaucratic government. Imagination soared 
beyond the realm of fact, and the restoration of ancient 
thrones, the regeneration of nationalities, the freedom of 
peoples seemed all capable of realisation by one supreme 
effort of the human will. 

Such feelings and aspirations struck a responsive chord in 
the nature of the Czar Alexander, and the prominence of his 
figure and the publicity of his utterances during 
the War of Liberation, which had brought the 
Allies to Paris, did much to encourage them. 
Trained in early youth under a Swiss tutor, Colonel La Harpe, 
his dreamy enthusiastic nature had imbibed large principles 
of humanity and beneficence which his autocratic position 
encouraged him to believe could be easily translated into 
practice for the advantage of mankind, if the sovereigns of 
Europe could be brought to utter the creative words " Let 
there be light." The shock of the French invasion, the 
deliverance of his country and the events of the War of 
Liberation had left a fresh impress upon his mystical tempera- 
ment. He had become an eager student of the Bible, and the 
influence and friendship of Madame Kriidener had intensified 
the new bent. He saw in Napoleon's fall the judgment of 
God, and felt himself the instrument of Providence. With 
his charm of manner and his smiling face he seemed made to 
win men to his will. But the Czar's character contained 
grave defects. Men noticed that his eyes never smiled, as 
though the mind within was distracted by a conflict of ideas. 
A sentimental sensuality pointed to a weakness of nature. 
But his failures as a statesman sprang from want of character 
and of resolution, and from the lack of that finer imagination 
which forecasts difficulties in detail, which counts the cost and 

1814 7 

prepares the will to make whatever sacrifices are necessary 
for the end proposed. 

But the world did not know yet that the influence of Stein, 
the patriotic ex-minister of Prussia, had nerved him to the 
decisions of 1813, and several years were yet to pass before he 
was to shrink back disillusioned from the consequences of his 
own principles. In 1814, he typified much of the popular 
confusion of thought. He stood for the extirpation of the 
Revolution and for a restored Europe, but a Europe animated 
by new principles of conduct gathered from religion, from 
liberalism, and even from the Revolution itself, and adminis- 
tered by the wise hands of paternal governments. To enthusi- 
astic souls of every nationality were likewise being revealed 
their own several visions of the coming millennium. 

Such dreams as these were evidently not destined to 
crystallise at once into a new political system. But this 
truth they contained in common. The old The new age 
Europe had disappeared and could not be re- 
stored by all the struggles of lost privilege or all the vigilance 
of timid governments. Europe had already been leavened 
by one change, and was beginning to feel the influence of 
another, changes which were to dominate both the domestic 
politics and the international relations of the nineteenth 
century. The first was the Social transformation effected 
by Napoleon, the second the Industrial Revolution which had 
originated in England. 



WE have now traced the more immediate effects produced 
upon popular feeling by that European domination which 
Napoleon himself frankly admitted to have been created as a 
" weapon of war." It now remains to follow out another 
series of consequences of more lasting influence which were 
not fully appreciated till the waves of conquest had rolled 
back behind the French boundaries. 

Napoleon, as heir of the Revolution, had destroyed the 
whole substructure upon which the fabric of the old Europe 
Feudalism rested. The change is often roughly and popu- 
larly expressed in the statement that Napoleon 
overthrew "Feudalism." This statement, however, is liable 
to be misunderstood by English readers. Feudalism, as a 
system permeating the whole of society and government, had 
long ceased to exist. All the mediaeval associations which 
the word calls up must be resolutely dismissed. We have to 
deal with certain institutions and survivals of institutions 
which, in Continental Europe, unlike England, had lived on 
into an age which in manners, dress, ways of thought, and 
principles of government had ceased to be mediaeval. To 
borrow an example from geology we may say that the upper 
strata of society had suffered as many changes and trans- 
formations as the surface of the earth undergoes from weather, 
tillage, new growths and human constructions. The lower 
strata remained as little modified as the rock measures beneath 
the soil. 

At the base of the feudal system lay the system of land- 
tenure and agriculture. The peasant tilled his lord's land 
rendering in return his personal service or a 
portion of his produce. To the land he was 
bound and could neither be ejected by his superior nor with- 
draw of his own will. His individual liberty of action was 
still further hampered by a system which prevailed in many 


parts of Europe under which whole villages cultivated vast 
lields in common. With the possession of the land the lords 
retained in many cases some of the functions of government, 
the right of administering justice and the right of taking tolls, 
while they retained the sporting rights which, in mediaeval 
times, had afforded them their occupation in peace. The 
system was not necessarily oppressive, for it is to be remarked 
that the serf had fixed rights and was not liable, like the free 
labourer, to the risks of unemployment and to all the fluctua- 
tions of the labour market. It is clear, however, that no 
peasant could hope to change his lot. The one notable 
exception was that of entire communities who, by contracting 
out of the strict conditions of feudal tenure in return for 
money dues or other equivalents, gave rise to a whole group 
of chartered towns and to a burgher class. 

While agricultural labour and money payments have their 
value in every age, the duties, military and otherwise, which 
the lords of the land had rendered to their own Privileae 
feudal superiors, soon became obsolete with the 
progress of the science of war and changes in social life, and 
were replaced by modern and less cumbersome forms of service, 
or allowed to fall into disuse. But the same contemptuous 
negligence which had suffered the lapse of services no longer 
valuable suffered also the continued existence of their equiva- 
lents, and a whole series of survivals of mediaeval rights in 
lieu of service remained to the nobles in the form of privileges, 
some of the most important of which were immunity from 
taxation and unequal rights before the law. Law and custom 
alike prevented the noble from engaging in trade. There was 
thus a sharp caste distinction between noble, burgher, and 
peasant dividing society into horizontal strata. Serfage, 
privilege, and caste, such then were the survivals of the 
feudal structure. To these may be added the privileges of 
the Church, a body which from the first had held an anomalous 
and special position in the feudal state. 

The rulers of the eighteenth century had tolerated rather 
than guarded these survivals. To reforming princes, like 
Joseph II of Austria, the inviolable custom which 
protected local and personal immunities appeared 
to exist only to hamper the efforts of scientific 
government. It is true that the leaders of the earlier phases 
of the French revolution had abolished all such survivals in 
deference to a passionate devotion to Liberty and Equality, 

10 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

but, even before the appearance of Napoleon on the scene, 
French politicians had reverted to the object of the older 
governments, and were showing a preference for centralised 
and uniform institutions which would strengthen the authority 
of the State and secure its efficiency in war. 

What these institutions were which Napoleon afterwards 
extended over the entire area dependent upon France we 

have now to enquire. All those constitutional 
tutioiM. msfcl " expedients, so important in the history of our own 

country, by which the will and the needs of the 
nation have been brought to bear upon the central govern- 
ment, were little valued by the Revolution and still less 
by Napoleon. His Council of State consisted of a working 
body of experts charged with realising in detail the Imperial 
plans. A nominated Legislature maintained a feeble exist- 
ence to give without comment the appearance of national 
endorsement to completed measures. A Senate, chosen by 
the Emperor, reproduced his will in decrees and helped to 
disguise his autocratic freedom from restraint. 

It was far otherwise with the local machinery which was 
intended to make the control of the central government 

effective in the most distant corners of the 

Empire. This, at least, was real enough. 

French territory was divided into Departments, 
each under its Prefect, which were sub-divided into Districts 
(or arrondissements) controlled by sub-prefects. These latter 
again consisted of a number of municipalities (or Communes), 
each under its Mayor. It is true that local councils of the 
inhabitants met both in the Department and Municipality, 
but these were selected by the government rather than elected 
by the people, and existed for the purpose of helping the 
authorities in the imposition of taxation and for supplying 
information as to local needs and conditions. It was this 
system of local government in the hands of a trained staff of 
officials that the Napoleonic conquests introduced into the 
newly annexed territories and, with less uniformity, into the 
majority of the dependent districts. 

The effects of its introduction were twofold. The restric- 
tions and privileges of feudalism came to an end. The serf 

became a proprietor, free to sell his land or to use 
French 5 ride. it} as ne thought best. Large areas of Church 

land were confiscated and sold to new owners. 
Old restrictions upon trade were removed. Caste distinctions 


were disregarded, and the privileges of individuals, classes and 
communities taken away. Every man, noble or peasant, was 
treated alike by the great system of French law embodied in 
the Code Napoleon. Thus every class became free to use to 
the best advantage the opportunities of a new age. Nor was 
this all. No short description can do justice to Napoleon's 
extraordinary capacity for detail and interest in material 
improvements, and he expected the same vigilance and 
activity in his subordinates. For the first time, the subject 
populations knew what it was to be under an efficient govern- 
ment. Finance was put upon a businesslike footing, roads 
were made, bridges built, towns improved, trade encouraged, 
education cared for. Wherever Napoleon himself went he set 
the whole district humming with schemes of improvement. 

And while the Emperor was accomplishing changes which, 
but for the ends to which he bent them, would have earned 
him the unmixed gratitude of mankind, his most 
determined and deadliest foes were working upon 
the same lines. The Spanish rising against the 
foreign invader, to be noticed in a later chapter, had revealed 
to European statesmen a new force. If national resentment, 
ill-disciplined and ill-led, could defy the resources of a great 
military power, what might not be effected by the same 
national spirit guided and disciplined by the hand of govern- 
ment ? It was in Prussia that the reaction against the 
Napoleonic ascendancy led to the most remarkable results. 
It is fair to regard these measures also as belonging to the 
effects produced by the career of Napoleon. 

Baron vom Stein is justly regarded as the first in time, if 
not in service, of the patriotic ministers who have made the 
greatness of modern Prussia. An independent 
Imperial Knight of the Lahn valley, he retained 
the policy of his order in his desire to see an 
effective bond of union in Germany, and some of its traditional 
characteristics in his self-contained and lofty temperament 
and in his despotic and almost contemptuous will. He had 
entered the Prussian service and had become Minister of 
Trade at a time when such qualities as his were sorely needed ; 
at the time when honest puzzled Frederick William III, torn 
between hatred and fear of Napoleon, never able by the very 
circumstances of his position to gain the Emperor's con- 
fidence, never resolute to defy his anger till too late, was 
conducting his country to the catastrophe of Jena. While 

12 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

yet the issue of peace or war hung doubtful, the Ministry of 
Foreign Affairs had been offered to Stein by the King and 
somewhat brusquely declined on the plea of inexperience, but 
in reality from the Minister's unwillingness to assume office 
except on his own terms. A rather insolent attempt to 
disregard modifications made in the office which he already 
held produced harsh words on both sides, and resulted in 
Stein's dismissal. But after the overthrow of Prussia and 
the removal of Count Hardenberg from office at the dictation 
of Napoleon, Stein was recalled to the Ministry of Civil Affairs 
and Finance with almost dictatorial powers. The King, 
indeed, was very willing to give him a free hand in certain 
directions. Prussia, a land without military frontiers or real 
unity of race, had been the creation of her administration, and 
progress along the traditional lines of administrative reform 
was what Stein had in view. Much of his work was not 
originated by him, much of it was left half finished on his 
dismissal at the end of one year by Napoleon's mandate, 
much is owing to the later additions and alterations of his 
successor Hardenberg, yet it is quite certain that nothing but 
his dominating personality and unbending will could have 
realised for Prussia at the supreme moment of her fortunes the 
measures by which she was helped to save herself. 

The first of these amounted to a reconstruction of the 
government. In place of ministers over separate depart- 
ments, working in isolation and constantly 
Eeform StratlVe thwarted by the decisions of an inner cabinet of 
the King's private friends and confidants, a 
Cabinet of ministers was established in which the heads of the 
newly organised departments met and deliberated in common. 
Legislation and matters of importance were to be referred to 
a Council of State under the King's presidency, consisting of 
the royal princes, the ministers, the great officers of state and 

The second great measure amounted to a reconstruction 
of society. The recommendations of a commission appointed 
by the King were embodied in the so-called 
Emancipating Edict of Oct. 9, 1807. By it the 
serfs on the Royal Domains received complete 
freedom ; those on the lands of other lords became personally 
free, while they remained subject to the obligation to pay 
their dues of service (an obligation for which Hardenberg 
afterwards enabled them to compound by the surrender of a 


part of their land to their lords) ; distinctions between noble, 
burgher, and peasant land, which prevented owners selling 
outside the class to which they belonged, disappeared ; while, 
finally, caste distinctions between persons were done away 
with, leaving the noble free to engage in trade and opening 
up careers of ambition to the peasant and the townsman. 

The third measure, a first tentative step towards bringing 
the influence of reconstructed society to bear upon the govern- 
ment, was a Municipal Ordinance giving self- 
government to the towns. That Stein intended 
to extend the principle to the rural districts can 
scarcely be doubted ; for the time being he contented himself 
with the division of the country into regular administrative 
Districts, with Superior Presidents in each Province over the 
group of Districts out of which it was constituted. 

Side by side with Stein and even more directly encouraged 
by the King, who had already laid his finger unerringly upon 
the defects of the Prussian system, worked the 
military reformers, Scharnhorst the theorist and Schamhorst 
scientific soldier, and Gneisenau the gallant E"form my 
defender of Colberg against Napoleon. To meet 
the immediate needs of Prussia were developed the principles, 
which, with many local variations, lie at the base of all modern 
military organisation. The first principle adopted was that 
of Universal Service. Prussia was small, but her geographical 
position compelled her to maintain an army out of proportion 
to the size of her population. Since the time of Frederick 
William I, therefore, the peasant class had been liable to the 
conscription. This obligation was now extended to all classes. 
It thus became possible to maintain discipline by milder 
methods, the Army became a school of patriotism and intelli- 
gence, and in the enthusiasm of the War of Liberation the 
obligation to service lost any remaining taint of unpopularity. 

No country, however, can afford to withdraw more than 
a certain proportion of its population from industry without 
serious loss. This difficulty Scharnhorst met by the principle 
of short service, which assumes that a soldier, after a few 
years' training, will not forget his work, but can be recalled 
from civil life at any time to take a valuable part in the 
defence of his country. It was thus possible with a standing 
army of moderate size to put the whole male population 
through a training in its ranks, and possible also to comply 
outwardly with the requirement of Napoleon limiting the 

14 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

Prussian standing army to 42,000 men, while making the. 
army for practical purposes identical with the nation. 

Thus had modern social institutions and a national spirit 
been given to Prussia by a government in full reaction against 
the Napoleonic domination. 

To Napoleon himself it is now time to return. Never did 
his genius for appreciating the drift of popular thought and 
prejudice or his respect for facts show themselves 
more remarkably than during the Hundred Days 
after his return from Elba. He had clearly 
apprehended all the floating ideas which had gathered into a 
reaction against himself. He saw plainly the new value 
attached to national independence and to representative 
institutions. And he set himself to trim his sails to the new 
direction of the wind. He loudly proclaimed that the Empire 
was Peace ; and the man who had declared of the proceedings 
of legislators that he was unable "to be amused at these 
games of prisoner's base," now set Benjamin Constant to 
draw up a new Constitution for France in the Acte Additionel, 
with the cynical remark that the taste for political debates 
appeared to have returned. In this remarkable document, a 
free press, a popular electorate, and the control of the execu- 
tive by the representatives of the people were introduced by 
an astonishing preamble offering an entirely new interpreta- 
tion of the Emperor's past. Europe was at length to learn his 
great design for a federation of self-governing nations, only 
frustrated of its early realisation by incessant war, but now 
so curtailed in scope by his own overthrow that its intended 
blessings could be conferred upon France alone. 

The world laughed at the transparent pretence, and con- 
ceived that the Battle of Waterloo had made an end of such 
trifling. Never was the world more mistaken. 
st. Helena^ At St. Helena, Napoleon set himself undauntedly 
iconic Legend." to the apparently hopeless task of re-setting the 
whole story of his career to the new interpreta- 
tion, thus showing some faith in his own cynical maxim, 
" History is a lie which mankind have agreed to believe." It 
is this reinterpretation of his life and aims which has been 
called the " Napoleonic Legend." In the sham letters which 
he dictated to Las Cases, his secretary, purporting to come 
from an Englishman, in the autobiography taken down from 
his lips, in the notes of his eager and voluble conversations, 
preserved by his physician O'Meara, the same pose is 


attempted. He was a crusader for Liberty and the foe of 
tyrants, one who sought a sure peace through the fires of 
war. It was his misfortune to have had his career cut short 
midway, when the destruction of ancient abuses had not yet 
given place to the process of building up a new civilisation. 
His quarrels with Sir Hudson Lowe, the governor of the island, 
were calculated appeals to the compassion and sympathy of 
Europe with the Imperial martyr for Humanity. 

He never attempted a harder task in all his career of 
wonderful achievement. And here, too, he succeeded. 
History has not done with Napoleon when he lands in St. 
Helena. The Legend lived in France and profoundly modified 
her destiny, as the French conquests had permanently affected 
the future development of Europe. 



WHILE the stratified society of Old Europe was fusing into 
new forms under the blasts of fiery energy breathed out from 
the furnace of Revolutionary and Napoleonic France, a process 
of disintegration and recombination of elements, more subtle 
and far-reaching, was passing through its early stages. And, 
by one of the paradoxes of history, the scene of 
En iamf in a rev lution, destined to have a wider and deeper 
influence upon the world than the French Revo- 
lution itself, was laid in England, the home of those Tory 
Governments which had played the leading part in the struggle 
against France. Here, little heeded by preoccupied ministries 
and diplomatists, a Grand Alliance of Coal, Iron, Steam and 
a whole group of Textile Industries was being developed, 
which was to modify Europe more profoundly than the 
Concert of the Great Powers or the new federal relations in 
Germany, which were to be elaborated at Vienna. 

In England, during the last half of the eighteenth century 
and the first two decades of the nineteenth, forces were being 
generated which were to give for a while a new 
its social and impetus to the failing influences of the Revolu- 
importance. tion, and, leaving them far behind, to issue in 
forms of political thought and activity very 
different in character and more permanent in effects. It will 
be the object of this chapter to trace the stages of this evolu- 
tion, and to attempt the more difficult task of indicating the 
moment at which the new influences began to take effect in 
Continental Europe. 

During the early decades of the eighteenth century, the 
industries of Great Britain and of the Continent were con- 
ducted on similar lines and in primitive forms. 
The processes of spinning the yarn from the raw 
wool and of weaving it into cloth were still the 
domestic industries of an agricultural population, and were 


mostly exercised by women. The thread was still drawn out 
by the fingers of the worker from the bundle of wool fastened 
to the head of the distaff, while the spindle twisted, the loose 
strand, either by natural rotation as it hung freely from the 
lengthening thread, or by the aid of the treadle- worked 
spinning-wheel. The process of weaving was even more 
laborious. The upright threads of the " warp," fastened 
firmly to the frame at one end, were attached alternately at 
the other to two separate bars which permitted each series to 
be raised alternately above the other, the shuttle on which 
the " weft " or cross thread was wound being thrown by hand 
across that series of threads in the warp which at the moment 
was the lower. As soon as the lower series had been raised 
above the upper, the shuttle was returned, and the process 
was indefinitely repeated, producing the interlacing texture. 

Mining, whether for coal or iron, and the smelting of the 
latter ore naturally demanded the concentration of the 
workers in one place, and, depending upon male MMn 
labour, could not in most cases be practised as a 
by-employment. Thus we read of a foundry at Berlin under 
Frederick the Great, and of a foundry and glass-works at 
Creusot as early as 1782. 

The only attempt at collective industry in the textile 
trades was the system by which the cottage workers engaged 
to spin or weave for a travelling merchant, who 
supplied their materials and disposed of their 
wares. This system was well developed in 
England, Holland, and Belgium before the middle of the 
century, but did not prevail to any wide extent in France or 
Germany ; though we find woollen industries at Berlin, silk 
manufactures at Crefeld, and linen weaving in Silesia con- 
ducted on the same principles. Anything approaching the 
modern factory owed its existence to government patronage, 
and was hardly to be found outside the more despotic 

It is a somewhat remarkable fact that up till the year 
1730, or thereabouts, England lagged behind the Continent 
both in the skill of her work-people and in the 
refinement of her processes, a failure perhaps to Comparison of 
be attributed to a lack of the artistic taste and th"\?ontinent. 
the instinct for nicety of detail. It is at least 
certain that the lessons taught by the Huguenot refugees at 
the time of the revocation of Edict of Nantes (1685) made an 

18 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

epoch in the history of the cloth industry, while in the early 
years of the eighteenth century we find England borrowing 
new processes and simple mechanical devices from the Nether- 
lands, Germany, and Italy. It was not by the superior skill 
of her workmen, but by the application of more rapid and 
effective methods to production, that she secured an unrivalled 
pre-eminence, and by the efforts of her engineers and 
mechanics rather than by those of her handicraftsmen. 

For such a development, however, the country already 

possessed some special advantages, and was to be presented 

by Fortune with another of inestimable value. 

of d Engiafd? Tne first of these was an ample capital. The 
system of Banking, so necessary for the accumula- 
tion and distribution of wealth, had already taken firm root, 
and foreign capitalists like the Rothschilds were transferring 
their operations to London from the insecurity of the Conti- 
nent. Stock- broking was being systematised and company 
enterprise was taking shape in connection with canals and 
water-supply. The wealth of England was a popular boast, 
but perhaps few would have recognised an advantage at least 
as important in the possession of the rudimentary steam- 
engine which had for some time been used in mines to pump 
water out of the workings. Fortune's special gift, the immunity 
from war in an age when few continental countries escaped 
an invading army, has perhaps been overrated in attempts to 
disentangle the factors in the new development, but its pro- 
tecting influence secured a continuity of progress impossible 

The evolution of the new forces of mechanical produc- 
tion proceeded at first along two simultaneous but separate 
lines of advance which ultimately united their streams 
into an irresistible current of progress and change. In one 
direction the search was directed to the discovery of a new 
motive power, in the other towards mechanical processes 
superseding or combining the operations of the human 

The beginnings of " collective " employment in the Coal 
and Iron industries have been already described. Two new 
departures now brought these industries into an 
mSt[vel)ower. intimate alliance in which they reacted power- 
fully upon one another. The first of these 
was the substitution of coal for charcoal in the process of smelt- 
ing, about the year 1750, a change which had been rendered 


necessary by the gradual exhaustion of the wood supply of the 
country. The second was the invention of certain improvements 
in the steam-engine by the efforts of James Watt. Taking the 
old pumping steam-engine, devised by Newcomen in 1704, as 
a basis, Watt succeeded in applying the steam power both to 
the backward and forward stroke of the piston. He secured 
a regularity of movement by the use of the " governor " and 
converted the vertical stroke of the piston-rod into a circular 
motion, by means of the crank and the driving wheel, capable 
of working machinery through connecting bands. In 1769, 
the necessary capital having been assured by a partnership 
with Matthew Boulton, the new firm brought their first 
patents into the market. The improved engine created a 
demand for the iron requisite for its construction, while it 
assisted the production and working of the metal in countless 
ways, steam-power being first applied to the blast-furnace in 
1790. New machines and tools themselves made by machinery 
followed; lathes, planing-machines, and drills appearing in 
rapid succession. 

Meanwhile, in the group of textile industries connected 
with cotton and wool, a parallel development was proceeding. 
In this development it is to be noticed that the 
spinning and weaving processes act and react JSse?. ved pr " 
upon one another and that any improvement in 
the one evokes an effort in the other to keep pace with it. 
The first advance upon primitive conditions was made by 
Kay with the invention of the " flying shuttle " in 1738, by 
means of which one weaver was enabled not only to control 
the movements of the frames carrying the warp, but to pass 
the shuttle to and fro without assistance. The consequent 
demand for yarn produced Hargreaves' " spinning jenny " 
some thirty years later, a machine by which one spinner 
turning a handle could draw out a large number of threads 
at once. Almost simultaneously, in 1768, Arkwright patented 
another device for spinning by means of rollers, and, applying 
water-power to his new machines, became the founder of the 
first factories. Crompton's so-called " mule " (1779) combined 
the devices of Hargreaves and of Arkwright for the production 
of finer yarns, and by this year spinning processes had 
left weaving far behind. It remained for a clergyman, named 
Cartwright, to restore the equilibrium by the invention of a 

At this point, engineer and manufacturer joined hands. 

20 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

In 1785, steam-power was first used in a factory at Papplewick 
in Nottinghamshire) five years later it was adopted by 

Arkwright, and between 1801 and 1804 it had 
the steam- become almost universal in the cotton industry, 
manufacture. In the woollen trade, however, the hand-looms 

held their own for another thirty years. 
It is not necessary to follow manufacturing activities 
further through the innumerable adaptations of the early 

nineteenth century. The changes already traced 
. constitute together a new system, the social and 

political effects of which we are now in a position 
to appreciate. The first visible sign of the changed conditions 

was the Factory. The use of steam-power arid 
?ystemf tory machinery decreed that the entire series of 

processes involved in any manufacture should be 
carried out on one spot. Labour, now definitely collective in 
character, was soon highly organised, different parts of each 
process being assigned to different workers, who thus gained 
a high standard of manual and mechanical skill, increasing 
enormously the rate of output. Thoughtful observers saw 
not without concern a second and still more striking evidence 

of change in the rise of the great towns. In an 
Swns h a e when communication was still difficult, the 

factories necessarily gathered about the coal- 
fields and in the iron districts, and street after street of new 
dwellings for the workers gathered about the factories. These 
growing armies of toilers were maintained in ever increasing 
strength partly by the expansion of the population, now pro- 
ceeding at an unprecedented rate, partly by the influx of whole 
classes which were drifting away from agriculture. New and 
scientific methods of tillage, cropping, manuring, and cattle- 
breeding were driving the small proprietor and farmer off the 
land. The enclosure of commons and the purchase of small 
holdings were consolidating those large estates, which could alone 
be worked at a profit under the new conditions. Ill-housed and 
living under insanitary conditions the urban population outgrew 
the efforts of the Church and of existing educational agencies 
to better their welfare in other directions. Englishmen in 
general scarcely noticed the birth-pangs of a new artisan 

class. None, however, could fail to mark the 
ciass apitalist growth of capital and the increasing influence of 

the middle-class Capitalist. Increased produc- 
tion built up fortunes out of profits in themselves modest. In 


England, by the Reform Bill of 1832, and in France under 
Louis Philippe, this class was to claim a preponderating share 
of political power. 

These employers of labour left nothing undone to secure 
the industrial efficiency of the new communities ; the laissez- 
faire teaching of their age made them careless of the human 
and domestic interests. They thought too much of the 
Factory and the " hands," too little of the Towns with the 
men and women. Thus the Artisan class grew 
up in squalid and unhealthy surroundings and 
under precarious conditions of employment, while over- 
production or the invention of new machinery would, from time 
to time, throw hundreds out of work. So dependent were they 
upon the employer whose capital had created the enormous 
material equipment of their industry that they were obliged to 
work under conditions dangerous to life and health, and to allow 
their women and children to labour for periods and at tasks 
unsuited to their sex and age. The artisans possessed but 
one advantage over the agricultural labourer. Where men 
are gathered together in large masses there is 
exchange of ideas and a corresponding activity 
of mind. The workmen of the towns were soon 
to discover the advantages and power of combination. The 
" trades-unions," by which the men combined to exact better 
terms from their employers, were no longer treated as 
illegal conspiracies after 1824, while the theories of Robert 
Owen, who desired to see industries worked on co-operative 
principles by profit-sharing combinations of capitalists and 
artisans, bore fruit in a system of co-operative supply stores 
by which the cost of living was to be reduced. Of these the 
first example is found at Rochdale in 1844. The principle of 
combination had come into play, but so far without political 
bearing. It was, however, clearly a force capable of issuing 
in unforeseen contingencies both social and political. 

It remains to indicate, as nearly as the difficulty of the 
question permits, by what date the new industrial 
conditions were operating in various parts of continent the 
Continental Europe. 

During the war, in spite of the dearth of capital caused by 
taxation and the drain upon the working population due to 

the conscription, some little progress was effected. 

rm ,. T- i ji j i j During the war. 

The movements of armies did at least stimulate 

the development of the means of communication in the 

22 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

countries that obeyed Napoleon. Moreover, the cotton trade, 
a new industry which had never taken root as a domestic 
employment, began with the century to adopt the English 
improvements in spinning. By 1801, the use of the spinning 
jenny was established in the north-west of France about Lille ; 
and Alsace, the Ruhr valley, Bavaria and Saxony were but 
little behind. Weaving was still performed on hand looms, 
though, thanks to direct encouragement from Napoleon, the 
flying shuttle was in use in France, and a notable invention 
of purely French origin, the Jacquard silk loom, was at work 
by 1804 in Lyons. But neither weaving by power nor the 
use of the steam-engine had come in before the end of the 

With the peace, in spite of the rudimentary condition of 
foreign banking, in which the conveniences of cheques and of 

banking accounts were scarcely as yet in general 
pe?ce usi n f use > and in spite of English competition, a fresh 

start was made under protective tariffs, but at 
very different rates of progress. 

Belgium, where coal-mining was already developed and 
the iron industry had been fostered by the war, led the way. 

The first steam-engine had already been set up 

by Cockerill, an Englishman, in 1813; English 
machinery was now largely imported, and the new processes 
for smelting and for working up the iron stimulated the pro- 
duction of native machinery. By 1830, the cotton trade was 
entering upon the factory stage, and the same process, en- 
couraged by the new government of 1830 was affecting the 
woollen industry by 1840. 

In France, coal-mining developed more slowly. The 
extent of the Lille coal-field was at first unsuspected, and the 
France ^ s yst em of smelting with charcoal held its own 

till late into the forties. The power-loom ap- 
peared in the cotton industries of Alsace in 1823, and the 
factory system had taken hold of all the processes of the trade 
round Lille soon after 1840. But it was only towards the 
end of Louis Philippe's reign that it began seriously to affect 
the old handicrafts connected with woollens, linen, and silk. 

In Germany, before 1850, these changes had scarcely 
begun. Smelting and iron-working on a large scale were 
Germany found here and there in Westphalia and Silesia 

in the forties, but in most cases these enterprises 
were of small account, and the workers combined them with 


agriculture and other employments. The use of charcoal in 
smelting was almost universal, and though there were spinning- 
mills for cotton yarn in Prussia, Saxony and Bavaria during 
the thirties, and for woollen yarn in Silesia and about the 
Rhine by 1840, these establishments were too small to create 
the conditions of the factory, indeed none of them employed 
steam-power. Even water-power had scarcely been applied 
to the work of weaving. 

In southern and eastern Europe by the middle of the 
century, the new influences were still unfelt and may there- 
fore be reserved for notice in later chapters. 

The conclusion to which we are led by this brief survey, 
no less than by that of the preceding chapter, is that the old 
foundations of European society had disappeared, and that 
whatever superstructure statesmen as yet possessed the 
knowledge and the materials to erect upon the surface, would 
stand insecurely upon moving sands. 



NOT a little of the interest which gathered about the person 
of the Czar during the early days of the occupation of Paris 

was the outcome of an expectant curiosity. 

With him, as representing the allied governments, 

it would lie to speak the word which would deter- 
mine the future of France. The question had already been 
discussed; there was a general preference among the allies 
for a Bourbon restoration ; Alexander alone hesitated. The 
Bourbons were too prosaic to appeal to his imaginative 
temperament and savoured unpleasantly of the old order to 
one so absorbed in dreams of a regenerated Europe. He had 
been persuaded that no regency for Napoleon's son could be 
safe while the Emperor yet lived, but he had not yet 
abandoned his own preference for Bernadotte, the French 
marshal who, by a strange freak of fortune, had been adopted 
by Charles XIII, the childless King of Sweden, and was to 
be the ancestor of the present Swedish dynasty. 

While Alexander yet hesitated there was one man in Paris 
who knew his own mind. Charles Maurice de Talleyrand- 

Perigord, the ex-bishop of Autun, had survived all 
thf czar nd and the stormsof the Revolution thanks to the skill with 

which he had invariably managed to place himself 
upon the winning side, having, as he put it, " never deserted 
a government till it had deserted itself." Supple, witty, and 
vigilant he had aimed always at guiding rather than con- 
trolling events ;^he had been Napoleon's ablest diplomatist 
and foreign minister, and was one of the provisional govern- 
ment of Paris when the allies approached the capital. Having 
arranged that he should be stopped at the barriers when the 
rest of his colleagues fled, he found himself in a position 
peculiarly suited to his abilities. Two things were necessary : 
to save France from dismemberment and humiliation, and to 
preserve the Revolution settlement. The return of the 


Bourbons would guarantee the first, a constitution would 
secure the second and conciliate the support of England. He 
persuaded Alexander to take up his quarters at his house, and 
opened to him his plan for a Constitutional Monarchy. He 
convinced the Czar that France would accept no soldier 
inferior to Napoleon, and disguising his own opportunism 
under an abstract principle grateful to the temperament of 
his guest, brought Alexander's mind to rest on the formula of 
" Legitimacy." 

The next" step was to wean the country of any hopes of 
retaining the House of Bonaparte, and a proclamation was 
issued in the name of the Allies declaring that no 
terms would be made with the Emperor or with 
any of his family. It was now easy for Talley- 
rand to secure the deposition of Napoleon at the hands of the 
Senate and the Legislative Body, and the recall of Louis XVIII 
under the provisions of a Constitutional Charter. A week 
later the Count of Artois, Louis' brother, afterwards Charles X, 
entered Paris amid scenes of extraordinary enthusiasm, and 
the remark attributed to him, " Nothing is changed, there is 
only one Frenchman the more," was heralded as an omen of 
the happiest consequence. 

The way was now cleared for a formal settlement between 
France and the allies. To guard against the dangers of an 
outbreak of popular feeling and against the 
possible complications which might be intro- 
duced at the forthcoming Congress, it was felt desirable that 
the arrangements should be made at once while the armies 
were still in occupation of French territory. No treaty could 
have been drafted which would not have been galling to 
French national pride. ^ The cession of the conquered districts 
in Belgium, Holland, Italy, Germany and even on the left 
bank of the Rhine was Inevitable, and the frontier of the old 
monarchy, as it stood in 1792, was accordingly restored. 
Yet the terms granted by the Treaty of Paris were generous. 
The Czar's instincts and England's wish to smooth the path 
for the Bourbons pointed in the same direction. Prussia was 
not permitted to claim an indemnity ; England, while keeping 
Mauritius, Tobago and St. Lucia, restored Guadeloupe and 
Martinique, and France was even allowed to retain the art 
treasures of which Napoleon had stripped the European 

The Allied Powers had thus carried out the first of the 

26 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

obligations which they had undertaken by the Treaty of 
Chaumont at the moment when they crossed the frontier, 
namely to impose a peace upon France. So fair a beginning 
might well inspire high hopes of the fulfilment to attend upon 
that other article by which they bound themselves to periodical 
meetings to maintain their present understanding. 0The first 
of these congresses met at Vienna in September, 1814, to 
complete the work of settlement which had been inaugurated 
at Paris. * 

In view of the severe criticisms which historians have been 
ready to pass upon the work of the Congress, it is worth while 

to consider shortly the objects proposed by the 
tetions'of the 1 " Great Powers and the limitations which circum- 
vienna Con- stances imposed upon their action. The_business 

of the Congress, as defined by the Paris treaty, was 
to provide for the redistribution of the ceded territories, and 
to reconstitute the relations of the German states. It was 
also understood that arrangements would be made for settling 
the internal disputes of Switzerland and for re-affirming her 
neutrality. A little thought will make it clear that these 
general aims were circumscribed by a number of prantkaL 
limitation^ There was, in the first place, a general agreement 
"157 favour < 

avour of so readjusting matters upon the frontiers of 
France as to put serious obstacles in the way of any return on 
her part to a policy of aggressive ambition. Secondly, it was 
evident that the stability of any settlement must depend upon 
a recognition of pre-existing rights as far as it was possible. 
Thirdly, complete freedom of action was limited by a number 
of agreements and treaties between the Allies themselves, 
which had come into being during the War of Liberation, and 
upon whichjjifiir^several decisions to take common action had 
depended. MLastiwit must never be forgotten that the Great 
Powers themselves were not an impartial body of arbiters 
legislating for a distant continent, but rival nations with 
divergent ambitions and interests. If these facts are borne 
in mind it is difficult to resist the conclusion that the settle- 
inent was, on the whole, a wise and businesslike arrangement 
and constituted a distinct advance upon anything which 
Europe Had hitherto attempted in a collective cajDacity^ 

By the end of September, Vienna was full of a multitude 
of sovereign princes, courtiers, ministers, and diplomatists, and 
alive with social gaieties which gave rise to the unfair 
witticism " Le congres danse, mais il ne marche pas." It 


was quite clear that in any assembly representative of all the 
independent interests concerned rapid progress was impossible, 
and it was arranged by the Four Great Powers, 
England, Austria, Russia, and Prussia themselves, 
that their representatives should constitute a 
committee to prepare resolutions to be submitted to the 
Congress. When once the ceded territories had been disposed 
of, France and Spain were to be admitted to the discussions. 
But the Allies had not reckoned upon the skill and courage of 
Talleyrand. Watchful for every opportunity of restoring 
the prestige of France he raised an outcry that the committee 
ought to be elected by a full session of the Congress, and to 
prevent such a session and the interminable disputes to which 
it would be sure to give rise, the Allies were forced to accept 
the compromise of admitting France, Spain, Sweden, and 
Portugal to take part in their deliberations. 

It is impossible, in a sketch such as the present chapter 
attempts, to present the discussions and conclusions of the 
Congress in a chronological sequence. Our aim must be 
limited to arranging in as clear and logical an order as the 
matter permits the principal results of the negotiations. 

We may begin with the measures taken to guard against 
a recrudescence of French military ambition. On these 
matters, opinion was tolerably unanimous. The 
northern frontier had never offered serious Measures 

i . T ,, P ^ . , against French 

obstacles to the progress of French armies, and ambition. 
the difficulty of providing an adequate defence 
was complicated by the fixed resolve of Austria never to re- 
sume the possession of the Belgian provinces. The protection 
of this frontier had never been effective except when exer- 
cised by the Dutch. It was therefore resolved that Holland 
and Belgium should be united into a Kingdom of the Nether- 
lands under the House of Orange, and it was hoped that the 
two peoples, the one industrial and the other mercantile, 
would soon be drawn together by considerations of mutual 
advantage. The arrangement also found favour as providing 
compensation to Holland for those Dutch possessions, including 
the Cape Colony, which were retained by Great Britain. The 
north-western frontier of Germany was covered by assigning 
to Prussia the German districts on both sides of the Rhine, 
from Coblentz to the borders of the Netherlands. In 
northern Italy, the Republic of Genoa, over whose roads 
and passes French armies had so often made their way into 

28 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

the peninsula, was united to the Kingdom of Sardinia and 

So far agreement had been easy. But quite early in the 
proceedings of the Congress there arose a question involving 
both treaty stipulations and the interests of the 
n. Great Powers themselves, and creating diver- 
gencies of opinion which almost issued in war. 
This was the Saxon-Polish difficulty. The idea of restoring 
the ancient Kingdom of Poland had found favour in England, 
and appealed to generous instincts all over Europe. In- 
consistent as it might appear with the interests of Russia it 
had become a favourite scheme with Alexander. Borrowing 
a hint from Napoleon's dependent Kingdom of Italy, he had 
determined to reconcile his personal predilections and the 
national interests of which he was the guardian by consti- 
tuting an independent Polish Kingdom under free institutions, 
\of which the Czars of Russia should wear the crown. With 
this object in view it was agreed between himself and Prussia 
in the Convention of Kalisch (Feb., 1813), by which the two 
Powers made common cause against Napoleon, that he should 
acquire those Polish districts formerly belonging to Prussia, 
which had been absorbed in the Grand Duchy of Warsaw. 
Compensation was to be provided for Frederick William in Ger- 
many. Though this arrangement had, strictly speaking, been 
cancelled by the Treaty of Reichenbach (June, 1813), by 
which Austria had joined the alliance and the three powers 
had agreed to divide the Grand Duchy, it was certain that 
Alexander still hankered after his original scheme, while a 
strong party in Prussia led by Stein desired to utilise his 
support in annexing the possessions of the King of Saxony, 
who (having remained faithful to Napoleon to the last) was at 
the mercy of the victors. Austria, moreover, in spite of some 
nervousness as to her Polish frontier and an unwillingness to 
see the Prussian state bordering on Bohemia, was disposed to 
be accommodating. 

All seemed in a fair way to settlement when Talleyrand 

intervened with a stroke of matchless audacity. He saw in 

the Saxon question an opportunity of regaining 

Talleyrand ^ or France an influence with the minor courts of 

Germany, and rightly divined the currents of 

opinion which would float him to success. Feeling in England, 

and indeed elsewhere, was not likely to view with indifference 

the outcry of the Saxons against an alien rule ; all who cared 


for " legitimacy " would commiserate the fate of Frederick 
Augustus, the Saxon king, thus selected for punishment for 
no worse fault than having misjudged the turn of the tide in 
Germany ; while Bavaria, who had secured her independence 
and made her peace with the Allies by the Treaty of Ried 
(Oct., 1813), and the other states who had followed her 
example, would regard his interests as their own. Well they 
knew that Stein and his friends hated the independent 
sovereign princes and wished to see some kind of central 
authority in Germany, These materials judicious intrigue soon 
blew up into a conflagration. England strove to mediate, 
Austria to effect a compromise, only to drive Alexander and 
Frederick William into closer union ; and, having failed in 
their endeavours, the two first-named Powers actually com- 
bined with France in a secret Triple Alliance, to resist the 
proposal by force of arms. The very violence of these 
measures induced a cooler fit, and a compromise was at last 
effected, Austria receiving back all her Polish possessions 
(except Cracow, which became a free city), while Prussia 
regained most of hers, and accepted in lieu of the remainder 
about two -fifths of Saxony. Frederick Augustus was con- 
firmed in the possession of his mutilated Kingdom. 

The remaining territorial adjustments effected by the 
Congress will be most clearly presented as modifications of 
different portions of the map of Europe. In the 
Baltic district a whole series of changes originated Territorial 
from the Treaty of Frederikshamn (1809), by $Sag ] 
which during his alliance with Napoleon the Czar 
had torn Finland from Sweden. The latter, on her accession 
to the alliance against Napoleon, had been, by way of com- 
pensation, promised the possession of Norway, which at the 
time belonged to Denmark, the Emperor's unwilling ally. 
This cession was now confirmed. When Denmark herself 
abandoned France by the Treaty of Kiel she had acquired 
from Sweden both Swedish Pomerania and the island of Riigen, 
but these she lost at the Congress to Prussia, receiving the 
district of Lauenburg from Hanover, which, as the result of 
these exchanges, recovered East Frisia from Prussia. 

We may now pass to Central Europe. The recovery or 
acquisition of provinces in Poland, in Saxony and on the 
Rhine by Prussia we have already noticed ; it 
should, however, be remarked that her hope C 
of connecting her central and western possessions was 

30 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

doomed to disappointment by the restoration of the independent 
principalities of Brunswick, Hesse-Darmstadt, Hesse-Cassel and 
especially of Hanover, now raised to the rank of a Kingdom. 
The arrangements made between Austria and Bavaria by the 
Treaty of Ried were confirmed and extended. By these, 
Austria recovered the Tyrol and her other provinces east of 
the Inn, which Napoleon had added to the Bavarian Kingdom, 
Bavaria being compensated with certain districts on the 
Main and on the left bank of the Rhine. 

South of the Alps Austria resumed possession of Lom- 
bardy, which she now succeeded in extending by the permanent 
acquisition of the Venetian territory, already held 
f r a snor t period of eight years as the precarious 
gift of Napoleon. Elsewhere, the principle of 
" legitimacy " was closely adhered to. The Pope was restored 
to his temporal dominions. South of the Po, the Duchy of 
Parma went to Napoleon's Austrian consort Marie Louise ; 
Modena to Francis IV, who represented the old dynasty of 
Este ; the Hapsburg Grand Duke Ferdinand recovered Tus- 
cany, and the widow of its Napoleonic tributary duke was 
compensated with Lucca. In Naples, Legitimacy conflicted 
with treaty obligations. Ferdinand I, the Bourbon King 
of the Two Sicilies, still held the island and expected his 
restoration on the mainland at the hands of the Powers. 
Austria had, however, guaranteed Naples by treaty to Murat 
with the object of detaching him from Napoleon. Murat 
himself ultimately simplified the settlement by joining his 
Imperial brother-in-law in his last struggle of the Hundred 
Days, and Bourbon rule was restored in Southern Italy 
before the Congress dispersed. 

From the outset of the proceedings the business of drafting 
a scheme to govern the future relations of the thirty-nine 
sovereign German states had been left in the 
Germanic con- hands of a purely German committee. The 
Difficulties. question was one which bristled with difficulties. 
Stein, whose views were longer and whose designs 
were more sweeping than those of his contemporaries generally, 
desired the re-establishment of the Empire, and his plans 
found favour with the " mediatised " and with those smaller 
princes who dreaded absorption. To this scheme the attitude 
of the two great German Powers was fatal. Austria refused 
to resume the onerous and barren Imperial dignity, while she 
was equally determined that Prussia should not step into her 


place. Both were prepared to negative the obvious solution, 
namely, that they should stand altogether outside the new 
Germanic body, as one tending to curtail their influence in 
Europe and to open the door to foreign ambitions. A scheme 
drawn up by Stein and by Hardenberg, the Prussian minister, 
for a dual headship shared by the two Powers was wrecked 
by the jealous fears of Bavaria, Wurtemberg, and Baden, 
who were not prepared to sacrifice their rights to any scheme 
of central control based upon the representation of districts. 
They definitely objected to any plan for a common system of 
defence, of foreign relations, and of law-courts, and declined 
to be satisfied with a joint voice in determining matters at 
present left "to their individual discretion, not unnaturally 
apprehending still further limitations on their sovereignty. 

It became clear amid all these divergent interests that if 
the Congress was to provide a constitution for Germany at 
all, it must be of the loosest kind, and one 
which left all burning questions in suspense, 
It was finally agreed that Austria and Prussia 
should be included, in respect of their German provinces 
only, and that a Diet representing the sovereign states should 
be constituted under the presidency of Austria. In this Diet, 
eleven states had one representative each, while the remaining 
governments were disposed in groups, each group combining 
to send a representative. For matters of greater importance, 
the Diet was to meet in a different form, as a Plenum, or full 
assembly. Here no state had less than one vote, while the 
larger governments disposed of two, three, or more in pro- 
portion to their importance. While forbidding any member 
of the Confederation to make alliances with foreign powers 
against any other, with the object of guarding against French 
interference, the Congress shelved all difficult questions by 
leaving them to the future determination of the Diet itself. 
Even the famous Article XIII, declaring in favour of Consti- 
tutions by Estates, was so worded as to be permissive and not 
obligatory, for the clause, as finally drafted, stated that the 
various governments " will " grant such liberties, instead of 
laying down that they " shall " or " must." Thus, to all 
appearances, Germany was left to settle her own differences, 
a task hard enough in itself and not simplified by the fact that 
in reality her solutions were liable to interference from outside. 
Not only were Austria and Prussia interested, but England and 
Denmark also, by virtue of possessing Hanover and Holstein 

32 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

respectively ; while the Constitution itself was placed under 
the collective guarantee of the Powers. 

The settlement of Switzerland was an easier task. On 
the overthrow of Napoleon, a league among the older cantons 
declared against the Act of Mediation (p. 4), and 
civil war was imminent. Napoleon's arrange- 
ments had, in fact, conflicted in three ways with 
ancient prejudices and rights. Every Canton had been forced 
to remodel its institutions in conformity with the French 
principle of equality of rights ; the old " allied districts " had 
been constituted into new Cantons, which shared with the 
older ones the direction of the Federal councils ; while Berne 
had suffered the double humiliation of having her former 
" subject districts " of Vaud and Aargau torn from her and 
of seeing them erected into separate Cantons. The arrange- 
ments made by the Congress took the form of a compromise 
on much the same lines as the Act of Mediation. Freedom 
was indeed given to the Cantons to remodel their consti- 
tutions, and no attempt was made to develop the influence 
of the central Federal institutions. On the other hand, no 
interference was permitted with the new Cantons, and their 
number was now raised to twenty-two in all, by the addition 
of Valais, Geneva, and Neuchatel. 

England had abolished the Slave Trade in her dominions 
in 1807, and the United States had followed her example. By 
the time of the peace her dominant navy had 
vB trade, practically swept it off the seas. Prussia, Russia, 
and Austria had no interest in the traffic. The 
time seemed to have come for its general abolition, and 
Castlereagh's determined efforts secured from the Congress 
an unanimous agreement on the main principle involved. 
Its immediate application was, however, unfortunately 
limited, through the efforts of Spain and Portugal, by a clause 
leaving each separate power free to determine the date at 
which the provisions should take effect. 

By the middle of 1815, the entire work of the various 

committees of the Congress of Vienna had been embodied by 

a special committee in a Final Act and had re- 

Se congress ceived, with few exceptions, the separate adhesion 

of the Powers. 

A few comments may be added in conclusion upon some 
of the shortcomings with which the work of the Congress is 
commonly charged. That it left some important outstanding 


problems untouched, such as the Eastern question and the 
4estinies of the Spanish colonies, will be as easily under- 
stood as admitted. The stock objections to the 
Vienna settlement have not been of this nature Examinaton of 

fl -., i , some criticisms. 

but rather that in the work it actually accom- 
plished the Congress wasjregardless of the " spirit of nation- 
ality," of the_principles of political, liberty and of the. rights 
of peoples. In reading such criticisms it is difficult not to 
feel that the statesmen of 1814 are being charged with failing 
to allow for conditions which were not at the time in existence. 
The " spirit of nationality," kindled by the War 
of Liberation, was a new force and by no means 
widely diffused outside Spain and Germany. Its 
operation was incalculable, it was as often an agent of dis- 
ruption as of union, and was, in many cases, inseparable from 
the narrowest kind of local prejudice and selfish isolation. In- 
deed we shall find that it was only one factor among many 
producing the ultimate organisation of the national units which 
the material conditions of the later nineteenth century im- 
posed upon the peoples of Europe, at the cost of sacrifices to 
which modern armaments are a standing witness. 

Much the same may be said of the failure of the Congress 
to pronounce in favour of constitutional principles. Only in 
England did there exist any long experience of 
the working of a popular government, and the 
elements for which the British Constitution was, 
at that time, most praised by its admirers were precisely 
those which were least popular in character. The experi- 
ments of the French Revolution were not encouraging, the 
constitutions of Sicily and of Spain did more than suggest 

The charge of disregarding the rights of peoples may best 
be met by pointing out that the " national movements " of 
the century were only possible as the result of 
combinations which equally disregarded them, 
Each age will form its own judgment of what, in 
this respect, was warranted by expediency. Perhaps, to-day, 
historians might be found to regret that Belgium was not 
absorbed by France, while the Germany and Italy of 1870 
would have had little sympathy to spare for Genoese objec- 
tions to annexation by Piedmont, or for the aversion of the 
Rhenish provinces to Prussian rule. 

The Congress desired peace and stability, and was guided 

34 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

by the political facts of the time. It could not be expected to 
prescribe principles which were as yet in the experimental 
stage, or to embark lightly upon a crusade in their favour. 
sun mar ^ e S rav ^y ^ either undertaking will best be 

appreciated by those who have studied the years 
of travail and strife during which the new conditions were 
painfully evolved. It is good for the world that the states- 
man should be arraigned by the idealist, and the business 
man by the humanitarian, but Europe will be inaugurating an 
era of unparalleled misfortune in the day when she commits 
her commercial enterprises to the humanitarian and her 
government to the idealist. 



BEFORE the Congress had concluded its sittings the Allies were 
compelled to intervene by force to save the very corner-stone 
of their system, the Treaty of Paris itself. And 
though the Hundred Days and the Waterloo Cam- 
paign lie outside the scope of this book and may 
for purposes of convenience be passed over as a belated epilogue 
of the Napoleonic drama, the first failure of the Restoration 
Government in France belongs entirely to the new era. 

Louis XVIII, lately Count of Provence, the elder of 
Louis XVI's two brothers, who was now called to the throne by 
the act of the French Senate with the approval 
of the Allies, had many of the negative qualities Loms xvm - 
necessary for playing a part of extraordinary difficulty. An 
easy tempered man of the world without prejudices or passions, 
he had shown some sympathy with the early stages of the 
Revolution, and had taken no part in the fulminations of the 
emigres. The cruel wrongs of his kindred had left no abiding 
wound in a somewhat cold heart. Religious and political 
enthusiasm made no appeal to his kindly cynical nature, 
and he entertained no illusions as to the feeling of his subjects 
towards himself. To this even and rational temper he added 
perfect manners and a gift for the apt phrase and the gracious 
word in season. Yet all these qualities taken together, 
calculated as they were to minimise friction and to elude 
unpopularity, were not of the kind which appeals to the 
imagination and arouses the sentiment of loyalty. And Louis 
possessed besides certain positive disqualifications which must 
not be left out of the account. His sixty years, his gout and 
corpulence denied to him the opportunities of appearing to 
advantage before his people on public occasions. His long 
exile on the continent and shorter residence in England had 
left him both ignorant of French politics and unpractised 
in the conduct of affairs. Moreover, he had no faith in the 

36 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

new institutions, and though playing his role of Constitutional 
King honestly, was never at his ease in the part. 

He found little assistance in the members of the Royal 
House. His brother, the Count of Artois, though a man of 

dignified presence, was suspected and feared for 
Fam?y yal ^ ne conspicuous violence of his utterances in exile, 

and, surrounded by returned emigres, scarcely 
concealed his dislike of the new system. The Duke of 
Angouleme, his elder son, and the King's nephew, kindled no 
hopes for the future of the dynasty. Taciturn and ill-informed, 
he was never gracious or at his ease in public. The second 
brother, the Duke of Berri, was not unpopular, but, open- 
mouthed as he was, and fond of pleasure, he inspired no con- 
fidence. And the past, which Louis would have had his subjects 
forget as easily as himself, was incarnate in the tragic figure 
of the Duchess of Angouleme, daughter of Louis XVI. French 
sentiment would have gone out to her if she could have found 
it in her hard nature and withered heart to accept anything 
from hands which her imagination saw stained. with blood. 
The art of playing the restored prince demands some sacrifice 
of the nobler affections. 

Even at the cost of waiving all personal considerations, the 
task of a government was not easy which was forced by the 

very conditions of its existence to adopt an im- 
Difficuities of partial attitude between the French nation and 
Monarc S hy! ed its conquerors as well as between the irreconcilable 

interests of its own subjects. The conditions of 
the Treaty of Paris, however inevitable, were a blow to national 

pride, the new Constitution under the Charter 
ter ' awakened every slumbering prejudice. The 
hereditary House of Peers, nominated by the King, and the 
Chamber of Deputies, elected on a restricted franchise with 
the control of money supplies, commanded general approval ; 
but the fact that the Charter was now granted by the King's 
grace, instead of being accepted by him as the condition of his 
election, inspired some doubts. His power of initiating all 
legislation and even of issuing ordinances by Royal authority, 
however necessary as a temporary precaution, suggested 
future dangers. The partisans of the old regime were bitterly 
disappointed by the arrangements which left the confiscated 
property of the Church and of the nobles in the hands of their 
new owners. Acceptable as peace might be to the middle 
classes it was necessary for the Government to walk warily. 


It must never be forgotten that the French Restoration 
differed entirely from the English Restoration of 1660. From 
France during the Revolution a whole class had ^ 
gone into exile, and with them the old structure 
of society. These men had now returned to find their places 
swept away or occupied by others, and made no secret of their 
wish to see the work of twenty-five years undone. It is small 
wonder that all who had supplanted them were suspicious and 
uneasy, and saw in every injudicious act of the Government 
the evidence of a great conspiracy. 

Nothing was more necessary than economy in finance, and 
Baron Louis, the Finance Minister, set to work with com- 
mendable vigour. But while he succeeded in 
restoring public credit, his zeal outran discre- 
tion. Though taxes were left on a war footing, 
rigid economies began in the army which created a whole 
discontented class of discharged half-pay officers and dis- 
banded veterans, and starved the efficiency of a service with 
which the national pride was closely bound up. A series of 
injudicious concessions to Royalist feeling gave a sinister 
colour to the policy of economy. The white cockade took the 
place of the tricolour, the lilies were substituted for the eagle, 
the old Imperial Guard were removed from their position 
about the King's person and a new Household Corps composed 
of emigres substituted. Even the Charter seemed in danger. 
A proposal for the censorship of the Press, and another, for the 
restoration to their original owners of such confiscated lands 
as had not yet been disposed of, produced an atmosphere of 
suspicion, in the midst of which the solemn removal of the 
remains of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette to St. Denis gave 
rise to a crop of the wildest rumours. 

Conspiracy was now widespread, and the most various 
schemes were discussed. Among the malcontents Fouche, 
Napoleon's infamous Prefect of Police, had formed 
a plan for approaching the Allies at Vienna with 
a proposal for Napoleon's deportation to a distant 
island and the restoration of his son under the Regency of the 
Empress, when sudden tidings from the south shattered alike 
the schemes of the conspirators and the security of the throne. 
Napoleon had left Elba. 

In November, 1815, the victorious Allies dictated the second 
Treaty of Paris. Prussian feeling was intensely excited. At 
the entry of the Allies Marshal Bliicher had scarcely been 

38 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

restrained by Wellington from blowing up the bridge of 
Jena. Hardenberg, the Prussian Minister now demanded 

the cession of Alsace and Lorraine as a security 
T?e e atyoTparis. against French aggression, and prophesied that 

blood would one day flow to win the Vosges 
frontier for Germany, if the present opportunity were neglected. 
But England, in the interests of the restored Bourbons, and 
the Czar for his own ends, stood firm for generous treatment. 
Some small rectifications of frontier were made, the spoils of 
the European galleries were at last restored, and an indemnity 
was exacted. It was not, however, possible to stop there. 
Some security for the future behaviour of France was necessary, 
and her frontier fortresses were occupied by an army of 
150,000 men under the Duke of Wellington. Meantime the 
ambassadors of all four Powers were to exercise their influence 
in common upon the conduct of domestic affairs. 

The importance of these measures cannot be exaggerated. 
Europe had, in fact, made itself collectively responsible for 

controlling the destinies of an independent nation. 
?n?iTentio n. Tne ste P was taken without misgiving. The 

idea of collective action by the Allies was indeed 
in the air. We have seen that there were many who were 
disappointed that it had not been used to realise their ideals. 
That most of these enthusiasts would have protested against 
its use for promoting any other common object than that upon 
which their own hopes were set is likely enough, but there 
were besides a large number of persons, who, while unable to 
formulate any definite programme, were deeply impressed 
with the greatness of the opportunity created by the European 
Alliance, and who desired to give a permanent form to so great 
a power for good. 

To these views Alexander gave expression in proposing to 
his fellow sovereigns the scheme of the " Holy Alliance." By 

this instrument they were to undertake to regard 

one another as brothers, and to base their common 

action upon the principles of the Christian religion. 
To this high-sounding but indefinite pronouncement the 
Emperor Francis and King Frederick William gave a hesitating 
assent, the Prince Regent of England being debarred by his 
Constitutional position from entering into a personal engage- 
ment, and its terms were duly proclaimed at a review on the 
plain of Vertus in September, 1815. 

The declaration seemed upon the face of it as harmless as 


it was indefinite. Castlereagh called it " a piece of sublime 
mysticism and nonsense," Prince Metternich, the Austrian 
Minister described it as an " empty form of words." Neverthe- 
less, it was regarded with some suspicion. Abstract principles 
had led in the past to surprising practical applications. 
Indeed, at a later date, the engagement was popularly regarded 
as a sinister league for the repression of popular freedom and 
the support of tyranny. That Alexander had any such 
purpose in his mind is out of the question. Any practical 
consequences which he may have had in view tended in an 
entirely opposite direction, in fact, he was suspected of dis- 
guising the Jacobin under the autocrat, and of being intent 
on encouraging popular causes to secure an influence in Europe 
with which he might promote the special interests of Russia. 
Indeed, his own subsequent suggestion that a general grant of 
constitutions would accord with the spirit of the engagement 
gave some colour to the suspicion. 

Of much greater practical importance was the Quadruple 
Treaty of Alliance executed in November. It was necessary 
that the Powers should bind themselves to main- 
tain the arrangements of the Second Treaty of The 1 Q ?{" 

1 . 1 * -, . * Tuple A.lllclIlt'V* 

Paris for safe-guarding the status quo in France. 

It was in connection with this treaty that Castlereagh took a 

step which was to have unforeseen results. 

The character and policy of this minister have been much 
misunderstood, and he has suffered by an unjust comparison 
with his more brilliant and attractive successor, 
Canning. It may be admitted that under a CMtiereagh. 
popular constitution he was not qualified to shine. 
He was ineffective in parliament, being neither an orator nor 
a debater. His sympathy with popular enthusiasms and 
prejudices was small, and he never addressed himself to either, 
or took the world into his confidence. He has suffered in 
public estimation as the principal agent of the Irish Act of 
Union, and as a member of Lord Liverpool's repressive govern- 
ment. But in diplomacy and foreign affairs he deserved well 
of his country. It was mainly by his efforts that the Alliance 
against Napoleon took its final shape in the Treaty of 
Chaumont ; the policy of England in his hands was one of 
honourable unselfishness, so much so as to excite the cha- 
racteristic scorn of Napoleon ; and he maintained a clearness of 
view and a consistency of aim which contrast favourably with 
the opportunism of his fellow-diplomats. He justly valued the 

40 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

understanding which existed between the Powers, and did his 

best to save it, but not at the cost of seeing its influence abused. 

He now urged that the Treaty must be couched in general 

terms to avoid humiliating the French Government in the 

eyes of its subjects. Accordingly it was agreed 
S?tffireaty. that the representatives of the Powers should 

meet at fixed intervals for the discussion of 
common objects and for the maintenance of the peace of 
Europe. The danger which lay under these general phrases 
was that it might become the interest of one or more Powers 
to use the Alliance for other purposes than that of restraining 
France. At the moment, however, there seemed to be little 
fear of any sympathy being extended to the proceedings, 
shortly to be noticed, of the restored governments at Madrid, 
Rome, and elsewhere. 

Three years later, in 1818, the time seemed to have come 
for the withdrawal of the Army of Occupation from France, 

and a conference accordingly met at Aix-la- 
. Chapelle to consider the question. Though there 

was still little belief in the stability of the new 
institutions the evacuation was readily agreed upon, but a 
difference of opinion arose over the application of France to 

be admitted to the Alliance. Castlereagh urged 
Evacuation that ft was better to attach France to the 

European system than to isolate her, and carried 
his point. It might now, however, be argued with much 
plausibility that the Alliance contemplated wider responsi- 
bilities than that of resistance to France, since France herself 
was included. 

Such an interpretation of its terms Alexander accordingly 
attempted to perpetuate, perhaps with some idea of clearing 

himself of the suspicion with which he was 

regarded. He proposed that a general alliance 

of all the Powers who had signed the Treaty of 
Vienna should be formed to guarantee all recognised rights. 
The Alliance was to hold periodical meetings, and he sug- 
gested that, with this security behind them, governments 
would have no difficulty in granting popular constitutions 
without fear of unforeseen results. 

Castiereagh's attitude was logical and clear. He rightly 
apprehended a series of " interventions " dangerous to peace, 
and likely to hamper the internal development of independent 
states on their own lines. He objected to the " general 


guarantee," and succeeded in satisfying the Czar with an 
abstract resolution approving of the Holy Alliance as a 
" system of political conscience," but declaring 
that international obligations were to be sought 
in existing treaties. He declined to assent on 
behalf of England to the proposed periodical meetings, but 
expressed the willingness of his government to share in any 
future Congress summoned for any special and defined purpose. 
The remainder of the discussions of the Conference may be 
neglected. They served mainly to show the ineffectiveness 
of such a body for dealing even with questions, like those of 
the Slave trade and of the Barbary pirates, which were 
essentially matters of common interest. 

It might thus seem that the Concert of Europe had 
finally demonstrated its own impotence for good, while it 
had been deprived of a dangerous mandate for mischievous 
interference by the dexterity of Castlereagh. That the 
prospect was unfulfilled is to be attributed mainly to the 
influence of Prince Metternich. From this 

, . n . , PAT i Metternich. 

moment his figure replaces that of Alexander 
in the foreground of the picture. It was the fashion among 
historians of the last generation to paint his character and 
policy in lurid colours. He has been represented as a bigot 
animated by a fervent and stupid attachment to a worn-out 
theory of paternal government, who viewed popular move- 
ments with an uncomprehending and almost religious horror. 
The settlement of Vienna has been represented as almost 
entirely his work, devised and consistently used for the re.- 
pression of every sort of freedom. No impartial survey of his 
career will sustain this theory. Metternich had entered the 
Austrian diplomatic service at an early age, and had imbibed 
a diplomatist's dislike of far-reaching schemes and constructive 
policies. He was essentially an opportunist, keeping an eye 
upon every turn of the European game and alert to score 
every possible advantage. Here his tact, secrecy, and insight 
made him a power. He was, moreover, intensely Austrian in 
his policy, and circumstances did not permit to Austria the 
wide views of Alexander or the detached unselfishness of 

The Austrian Empire consisted of an almost fortuitous 
collection of nationalities Germans, Slavs, Mag- 
yars, Poles, and Italians united under a single A 
sceptre. The development of national feeling could only mean 

42 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

disruption ; popular opinion, if once allowed freely to express 
itself, would let loose every racial antagonism. So obvious are 
these special difficulties that it may be wondered at first 
sight why Austria did not stand apart and suffer the rest of 
Europe, from which she differed so profoundly, to go its own 
way. But there were two regions outside her own territories 
to whose affairs Austria could not afford to be indifferent. 
In Germany and in Italy were populations of the same blood 
and language as her own subjects ; ideas and aspirations 
which took root among them were sure to spread to her own 
territories. Worse still, there were already in both central 
and southern Europe tendencies to union, which in Italy 
might rob Austria of provinces, and in Germany establish a 
powerful neighbour on her flank. Finally, there were in both 
regions ambitious princes ready to take advantage of such 
sentiments to enlarge their own dominions. Thus, in self- 
defence, Austria was bound to attempt to secure the status quo 
both east of the Rhine and south of the Alps, to exercise a 
control over the policy of the princes, and to induce them to 
believe that their own safety was concerned in repressing 
popular movements. Thus Metternich was able to say with 
perfect truth, " We initiate no policy, our policy is confined 
to maintaining treaties and public repose." 

Such a policy appears on the face of it too negative to be 
successful for long. Indeed, Metternich sometimes spoke of 
himself as " propping up a mouldering edifice," and even 
stated his conviction that the old order was doomed. Never- 
theless, he at no time ceased to talk of the agitation for 
representative government as a disease, and seems to have 
clung to tho diplomatist's characteristic hope that new cir- 
cumstances would one day arise under which Austria, pre- 
served by himself from destruction, would find the solution 
of her difficulties. From one possible line of action he was 
debarred. A vigorous administrative reform has often 
welded together the most dissimilar provinces. But Metternich 
was not his own master. The Emperor Francis loved to 
direct every detail of the internal government, and between 
him and an efficient bureaucratic system stood the example 
of Joseph II's failure in the same direction. The remedy 
had been tried, and was believed to be worse than the disease. 
Napoleon once said of Metternich that he " mistook intrigue 
for statesmanship." It is difficult to see how an Austrian 
minister of the time could have played the nobler part. 


Germany was the field in which Austrian policy first 
revealed its tendency. We have already seen how the Congress , 
in its anxiety to finish its work, threw upon the 
newly constituted Diet the task of drawing up G 
the general laws which were to govern the affairs of the 
Confederation. In November, 1816, the Diet met at Frankfort 
to consider such important matters as a common scheme for 
national defence by a Federal Army, the re-arrangement of 
Customs tariffs in the interest of commerce, regulations for 
governing the freedom of the Press and the question of granting 
constitutions. In these last two matters it was important that 
all should act alike, as divergence would create discontent and 
unrest, while unanimous action would strengthen whatever 
decision was taken. 

It was soon realised that the Diet was powerless to deal 
with the simplest business. The delegates were, in fact, the 
envoys of a number of jealous governments, and 
could commit themselves to nothing without tKS e f 
instructions from home. Prussia would not hear 
of an arbitration scheme which might fetter her expansion ; 
the smaller states put difficulties in the way of a Federal 
Army in which the preponderance was sure to belong to 
Prussia ; the proposal for common action over the censorship 
collapsed ; the petty sovereigns were more anxious to retain 
their customs revenues than to break down tariffs which 
restrained the growth of trade ; in the matter of constitutions 
the Elector of Hesse made himself ridiculous by reviving every 
detail of the old regime, even to the queues and hair powder 
of the soldiers, while the Duke of Saxe- Weimar granted the 
most liberal institutions to his subjects, both acting without 
any regard to the views of the Diet. 

Meantime, in the southern States, the rulers of Bavaria and 
Baden had both granted constitutions not without the idea of 
bidding against one another for the Czar's support in a terri- 
torial dispute in which they were concerned, while a similar 
proposal had come to grief in Wurtemberg owing to the dissatis- 
faction of the old Estates of the principality with the details. 

Nowhere had national feeling been stronger during the war 
than in Prussia, and Frederick William, by an 
ordinance of May 22, 1815, had actually gone as obstacles to a 
far as to promise a constitution. But "whatever fnp S russS? n 
hopes had been entertained were doomed to disap- 
pointment. There was, in fact, a real difficulty. There was 

44 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

a strong and well-grounded feeling against a brand-new 
constitution, and a desire to base the new popular institutions 
on the old system of Estates which had existed in separate 
provinces. It was thought that out of representatives from 
these Estates a central deliberative body might be constituted 
without a decisive breach with the past. Unfortunately there 
were provinces where no Estates existed, nor, where they did 
exist, were they uniformly representative of the same classes. 
The situation called for a statesman possessed of the con- 
structive power to reduce the Estates to uniformity and to 
create the superstructure. No such man was available. 
Hardenberg's powers were failing, and Stein's reforms were 
already producing a reaction which, coupled with Metternich's 
influence upon the King, delayed progress for two years. 
Ultimately, in 1817, a Commission was appointed to collect 
opinions in the provinces. Its progress was slow, and the 
results obtained were singularly indefinite. Yet, though 
a constitution was postponed, Prussia set foot 
Prussian ad- firmly on the path of administrative reform from 
reform?* 1 ' which Austrian statesmen had recoiled. A 
Council of State was organised to control all 
departments of the government ; a strong system of adminis- 
tration was busy absorbing the new provinces ; Maassen's 
efforts secured the abolition of internal customs, thus 
establishing freedom of trade within Prussia ; an effective 
educational system sprang up under the guidance of 
Altenstein. Prussia was building firm foundations for the 

All this while the jealousies of the German Governments 
were highly satisfactory to Metternich. But the time came 
when even he desired to see them take concerted action. 
The territories of the Duke of Saxe-Weimar had become the 
centre of a national patriotic agitation. A Students' League 
(Burschenschaft) was formed at the University of Jena, and 
the movement spread to other universities. Professors and 
students fell to discussing, pamphleteering, and demonstrating 
/with all the idealistic fervour and disregard of material fact 
I which has always marked the classes engaged in purveying 
land imbibing knowledge. A grand convivial demonstration 
at the Wartburg (1817), ended in a bonfire upon 
which some reactionary books and emblems of 
militarism were burnt amid great enthusiasm. 
All this appears at first sight silly and harmless enough, but 


Metternich's fears were excited by a movement which seemed 
likely to capture the mind of the rising generation and to 
conduct them to manhood imbued with the very principles the 
operation of which he had reason to dread. Nor were the 
declamations of professors and students altogether harmless. 
Our own experience in India may help to remind us of the 
close connection between unbridled license in denunciation and 
political crime, and it is a fact that many of the professors had 
not shrunk from recommending perjury and murder as means 
to the accomplishment of the national redemption. 

This criminal nonsense was taken seriously. An attempt 
was made by a medical student closely connected with the 
Burschenschaft to assassinate Von Ibell, the 
Minister of Hesse. The attempt was followed by 
an even more senseless crime. A pamphlet had 
appeared written by Stourdza, an adherent of the Czar, 
condemning the views of the German agitators. Kotzebue, 
a German writer regarded as a Russian agent, having declared 
that this publication was inspired by Alexander, was sought out 
and stabbed by a Jena student, a member of the Burschenschaft. 
The crime acquires a greater significance from the fact that a 
leading professor was aware of his intentions, and that a 
patriotic preacher was found to describe his act as that 
of " a pure pious youth," and as " a beautiful sign of the 

Metternich was not slow to take advantage of the revulsion 
of feeling caused by these outrages. Working on Frederick 
William's fears in an interview at Teplitz, he 
threatened to leave him unaided to face the J e h c e re c e f sbafl 
general peril if he did not abandon his scheme 
for representative government in Prussia, and persuaded him 
to join in calling an extraordinary conference of the larger 
German States at Carlsbad (1819) to deal with the situation. 
Here decrees were passed putting all universities under close 
government supervision, dissolving all student associations, 
enacting a strict censorship for the Press, and establishing 
at Mainz a special commission to follow up any traces that 
might be found of wide-spread conspiracy, thus assuring to 
Metternich a general right of disciplinary interference. These 
decrees were next submitted to the Diet for acceptance, where 
they met with some opposition before they were ratified, the 
smaller states disliking the dictation of their more powerful 

46 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

The dissatisfaction took a more effective shape the next 
year at Vienna, where Metternich had summoned representa- 
tives from all the States to a conference which 
Vi?nna ence ai was designed to give to the Federal Constitution, 
in the interests of law and order, a definition 
which it had hitherto lacked. The attempt to revise 
Article XIII (which permitted the granting of constitutions) 
in a reactionary sense, was only partially successful. No 
authority was, indeed, allowed to the popular voice apart from 
the ruler's pleasure, but no restriction could be obtained upon 
the right of each sovereign prince to deal with the question in 
his own way. Thus the Vienna Final Act of 1 820 was productive 
of little change, and the resolutions which charged the Diet with 
the duty of protecting the individual Governments against 
revolution were little more than pious recommendations. 

Still, if Metternich had not been entirely successful in 
establishing Austrian tutelage, he had won the German princes 
to common repressive action, and he had so far prevailed with 
Frederick William that in 1821 a new commission was 
appointed whose task was specifically limited to the establish- 
ment of a universal system of local Estates in Prussia. 

Events were already taking place which impelled the 
Austrian Chancellor to an attempt at bending the power of the 
European Alliance towards similar ends. In any 
sucn task it} seemed every day more likely that he 
would be able to count upon the co-operation of 
Russia. Recent events had been casting over Alexander's 
sanguine temperament the chill of disillusion. A plot dis- 
covered in his own army had preyed upon his nerves, and the 
anti-Christian tendencies of the German agitators had alienated 
his sympathy. Stourdza's pamphlet had already indicated 
some change in his view, and the assassination of Kotzebue 
had excited his strong resentment. Another assassination, 
that of the Duke of Berri in France, deepened still further 
his distrust of popular causes. His sentimental visions, hastily 
conceived, were as hastily abandoned. The Czar was ready 
for another conversion. 

For some time past he had been led by his desire to play 
a great part in Europe to interest himself in the distracted 
condition of Spain. The Revolution of 1820, by 
r T evoiutfon? h which the restored King Ferdinand VII had been 
forced to accept a constitution which only aggra- 
vated the situation (a series of events to be described in the 


next chapter) quickened his desire to interfere. He proposed 
to Metternich a Congress of the Powers by which he should 
be armed with a mandate to carry a Russian force into the 
Peninsula. But Metternich's dislike for revolution varied 
inversely with the distance of the scene from any centre of 
Austrian interests. He declined, under cover of a number of 
fine distinctions, to lend his support. 

The case was very different when only a month later 
Naples imitated the Spanish example and broke out into 
revolt against Ferdinand I. It will be necessary 
in another chapter to give some account of the 
condition of Italy under the restored Governments. 
A brief outline of the situation in Naples will be sufficient in 
this place. Here, as elsewhere, the new Government had been 
retrograde rather than oppressive. The French law and the 
French administrative system were maintained, but everything 
was mismanaged by an inefficient Government. Ferdinand I had 
a bad record. He was ignorant, superstitious, and brutal, and 
he was justly mistrusted ; the horrible cruelties perpetrated 
by his party in 1799 were too well remembered. Grievances 
enough existed, due to the return of old social conditions and 
an exiled party. The emigres got back their land, and the 
peasants soon felt the weight of the change ; trade was crippled 
by the ancient customs regulations ; Murat's officers and 
Government officials found themselves replaced by supporters 
of the old regime. Hatred of the French, now transformed into 
hatred of the Austrians, wore the colour of a rudimentary 
national feeling. These sentiments took shape in a secret 
society, modelled upon the lines of Freemasonry. The 
members of this society styled themselves the 
Carbonari. No one definite political aim inspired The Carbonari - 
them, but vague aspirations for the regeneration of society 
at large, in which Christian sentiment, humanitarian principles, 
revolutionary ideas, and even socialistic notions were mingled. 
The association spread rapidly over Italy, and contained for 
the most part men of high character and of some social 
position. Their secrecy and their numbers inspired an exag- 
gerated estimate of their power, while their wide ramifications 
and organisation by local lodges made united action almost 
impossible. Nevertheless, they secured the control of some of 
the machinery of local government by enrolling the majority 
of the magistrates in their own organisation. With Carbonari 
in every profession and every office, the country was mined, 

48 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

and when the National Militia, raised to check brigandage, 
came under the command of Pepe, himself a leading Car- 
bonaro, the time was ripe for overthrowing the system which 
the society had so long denounced. 

Two lieutenants of cavalry at Nola, Morelli, and Sal via ti 
fired the train by imitating the Spanish revolutionists (p. 61), 

and, leaving their quarters at the head of a small 
in U Napfel force, proclaimed a constitution. The country 

rose, whole regiments deserted, and Pepe was 
able to meet the King's insidious promises with a demand for 
" the Spanish Constitution of 1812." Ferdinand offered no 
opposition. Indeed, he grossly over-acted the part which his 
subjects forced upon him, and accepted the Constitution with 
great professions of enthusiasm and with loud imprecations 
upon himself if he failed to keep his oath. Ministers were 
found among Murat's former officials, an enthusiastic but 
inexperienced Chamber of Deputies was elected, and debates 

Difficulties were plentiful. The Constitution itself was the 
work of inexperienced enthusiasts for popular control, and its 

provisions were calculated to paralyse any attempt 
Difficulties of at government. The legislature was to consist of 
government. a single Chamber, the King's veto was to be set 

aside if any measure was passed thrice, ministers 
were not allowed to be deputies, there was to be a general 
election every two years, and none of the retiring deputies were 
eligible for re-election. Thus the Chamber was to be alike 
uncontrolled, and to be deprived of the wisdom which comes 
of experience. The elaborate system of election demanded 
too much intelligence and interest from the voter. Moreover, 
the ministers, trained in the French official school, were out of 
sympathy with the democratic views of the Chamber, while 
the Chamber itself was swayed inconsistently this way and 
that by its deference to the vague and irresponsible authority 
of the Carbonari. Sicily rebelled. Her ancient Constitution 
had been replaced, under British influence, by one of a modern 
type, which had in its turn been withdrawn on the restoration. 
The independence of the island, thus already threatened, 
seemed finally doomed to extinction by her incorporation 
under the new constitution which was to apply to Naples and 
Sicily alike. At Palermo the nobles armed the mob, and fierce 
riots took place. It was only after desperate fighting that 
the Neapolitan troops succeeded in putting down the rising. 


Mettemich was determined to interfere. He still hoped to 
avoid a Conference likely to open the Spanish problem. 
He therefore circulated a proposal that Austria 
should intervene, backed by the moral support of 
Europe, in the shape of notes from the other 
Powers. Castlereagh flatly objected. England had no quarrel 
with Naples, and would not sanction an undertaking the details 
of which she could not foresee. Metternich was therefore forced 
to fall back upon the support of Alexander and to attempt to 
secure a mandate from such a Conference as the Czar desired. 
He suggested for discussion a proposal that the Powers should 
undertake to refuse their recognition to revolutions forced upon 
rulers "from below." Castlereagh at once refused to bind 
himself to a general principle which would apply in circum- 
stances which could not be foreseen, while expressing himself 
ready to assist in maintaining existing treaty obligations. 

Accordingly, when the Conference met at Troppau, in 
October, 1820, England was only represented by Sir Robert 
Stewart, brother of the British Foreign Secretary, 
with no authority except to watch events. The conference. 
French envoy was also without full powers. 

Alexander was more amenable. In an interview over a 
cup of tea he put himself unreservedly in Metternich 's hands. 
" I deplore," he said, " all that I said and did 
between 1815 and 1818." It was therefore easy SgaSSS! 01 
to secure the agreement of Austria. Russia, and 
Prussia on the Troppau Protocol, binding these Powers to 
bring States guilty of revolution back " into the bosom of 
the Great Alliance." 

France gave a general approval to the Protocol. Castle- 
reagh instructed Stewart to protest. He pointed out that 
the Quadruple Alliance had been directed against France 
alone, and did not cover the action now proposed. He further 
asked the pertinent question whether any one of the three 
Powers was prepared to see the new principle applied to 
itself by consent of the rest. From this moment England 
was detached in all but name from the Concert. 

Ferdinand was now summoned to Laibach to attend the 
adjourned deliberations of the Allies. He was only suffered 
to go by his subjects upon taking another solemn 
oath to maintain all that had been done. Once 
there he disavowed his obligations with a haste 
which excited disgust. In spite of the protest, which 

50 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

Stewart insisted on inserting in the record of the proceedings, 
Austria was empowered to intervene. The Neapolitan army 
under Pepe, dreading the effect of negotiations, dared not stand 
on the defensive at the frontier, but took the initiative by 
advancing upon Rieti to render peace impossible. Here 

they were beaten, and Ferdinand entered 
ied ' Naples without further resistance (March, 
1821), to inaugurate a "series of ruthless reprisals. Thus 
ended the first Italian uprising for liberty. Regret will be 
tempered by the reflection that it was better for Italy that 
Piedmont and not Naples should be her champion. 

And Piedmont was already making her first bid for leader- 
ship. The old system had come back with Victor Emmanuel I, 

and under his full approval ; but constitutional 
pfedmont n m ideas were rife among the nobles, and even the 

King hated the Austrians. The Carbonari hoped 
to force him into the position of national champion against 
the foreigner, and believed themselves sure of the support of 
Charles Albert, Prince of Carignano, a member of the Royal 
family, to whom the crown would ultimately fall after the 
death of the King's brother, Charles Felix. The Prince had 
been brought up in Paris, had served in Napoleon's army, 
and had given some encouragement to Carbonari schemes. 
A definite plan was now drawn up to proclaim the Spanish 
Constitution, to advance to the support of revolution in Milan, 
and to cut Austrian communications with Naples. 

An interview took place between Charles Albert and the 
leaders, and they seem to have been satisfied that they had 

won his support. Next morning, for reasons not 
Charles Albert easy to trace, he laid the facts before the 
devolution. authorities. It was too late to stop the rising. 

Alessandria and its garrison proclaimed Victor 
Emmanuel King of Italy, and declared for the Constitution. 
The King, torn between promises he had made to Austria at 
Laibach and his unwillingness to attack his own subjects, 
evaded the difficulty by abdicating. Charles Felix was absent, 
and Charles Albert, appointed Regent at the age of twenty-two 
in a position of exceptional difficulty, wavered for several days. 
Finally he proclaimed the Spanish Constitution, and began 
to talk of war with Austria. At this point a manifesto from 
the new King appeared, disavowing his proceedings. The 
Regent bowed to this decision and joined the troops at 
Novara, who had not yet declared for the conspiracy. 


Charles Felix and the conspirators at Alessandria were thus 
left facing one another, and both refused mediation. By this 
time an Austrian army was at hand. The 
Alessandrian troops advanced upon Novara, and Austrian inter- 
were there decisively beaten by the united forces piedmont. 
of the garrison and the foreign invader. 

Thus the curtain fell upon tlie first ineffective scene in 
Italy's long struggle for independence. Metternich had defied 
Castlereagh and bound Russia and Prussia to his chariot 
wheels. But he had put a heavy strain upon an understanding 
which, above all, demanded moderation, and the dissolution 
of the Concert was in sight. 



THE extreme doctrine of the collective responsibility of Europe 

for suppressing revolution had adapted itself admirably to 

Austrian interests in Italy. Viewed from the 

Success of Austrian standpoint, the affairs of Naples had 

intervention 1 P . . /-. 

in Naples. presented a clear case tor intervention, tor 
Austrian predominance in Italy was manifestly 
imperilled. To achieve a sufficient measure of agreement 
between the great Powers had not been beyond the resources 
of diplomacy, for the interests of no other power were concerned, 
and none save England was perverse enough to consider the 
fact a valid reason for withholding approval. Finally, the 
military resources of Austria had proved sufficient, and near 
enough at hand to be independent of anything but the 
benevolent neutrality of the Allies. 

Meanwhile the Spanish Revolution, itself one of the causes 
of the movement in Naples, had been running its course 
unchecked. The fact was that the problem 
Difficulties of obstinately refused to accommodate itself to the 
S^ain* 1011 new doctrine of intervention without destroying 
the basis of agreement failing which intervention 
was itself impossible. Metternich himself at first struggled vainly 
to evolve some principle which would differentiate the Spanish 
from the Neapolitan troubles, and justify a policy of inaction. 
Austria had little to fear from the uprising, and nothing to gain 
from interfering in the Peninsula. Interference in any form was 
likely to let loose all the furies of international jealousy. The 
restored French monarchy could not be indifferent to a revo- 
lutionary movement south of the Pyrenees, and would gladly 
have renewed the old relations of alliance and patronage, dating 
from the days of the Family Compact, with a special view to 
commercial advantages in the New World. It was just at this 
point that the interests of England also were vitally affected. 
By the revolt of the Spanish -American colonies the trade 


monopoly of the mother country had come to an end, and 
English merchants had reaped advantages which they would 
be slow to surrender to Spain herself if restored to authority, 
and still more so to England's old rival posing as champion 
of Spain. Nor could the colonial be divided from the consti- 
tutional question. If Europe took action in the one she 
would at least be led to express an opinion on the other. 

And even if the two questions could be satisfactorily 
divided, to whom could the execution of any decree of the 
Concert be committed ? France was the nearest neighbour, 
but French intervention was scarcely possible in face of British 
jealousy. Britain had disavowed intervention altogether ; 
Austria and Prussia would not move in a matter where they 
had no interests at stake. There remained Russia. Alexander 
was as eager as ever to draw the sword to enforce the decisions 
of a supreme tribunal of Europe, but Metternich was deter- 
mined to prevent the passage of Russian armies across central 
Europe, and shrank from the possible consequences of com- 
mitting the security of the world's peace to the impulses of 
the Czar. He would gladly have let so thorny a question 
alone, and yet the very importance of the interests involved 
made it certain that the Concert must attempt some thing, unless 
it was prepared to abdicate its claims and to leave national 
jealousies to fight out their differences in the old rough way. 

An attempt must now be made to sketch in some detail 
the antecedents of the Spanish Revolution, not merely for the 
better understanding of the movement itself, but because 
they profoundly affect the whole subsequent course of Spanish 

In May, 1808, Napoleon summoned the Royal Family of 
Spain before his judgment seat at Bayonne. Thither came 
the good-natured cipher King Charles IV ; his self- 
willed, low-minded Queen ; Manuel Godoy, Prince ggf 011 and 
of the Peace, at once the King's all-powerful 
minister, and the Queen's favoured lover ; and the Infant 
Ferdinand, the mean-spirited and undutiful heir to the throne. 
The mutual relations of these sordid actors promised an easy 
realisation of the Emperor's purpose, which was nothing less 
than to secure a peaceful occupation of Spain, as a base of 
operations against England's Portuguese Allies and English 
trade interests. The promise of an independent principality 
had six months earlier secured from the favourite a free 
passage for French troops through Spain by the Treaty of 

54 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

Fontainebleau. Ferdinand's hatred for his father's minister 
had exploded ineffectively in an ill-managed plot, and he had 
been reduced to abject entreaties to save his own life, and had 
even been driven to court the favour of Napoleon. 

A sudden turn of fortune altered the entire situation. The 
occupation of certain Spanish fortresses by fraud or by violence 
left no doubt as to the character of French intentions, and a 
furious rising at Aranjuez, followed by the hasty abdication of 
the old King, carried Ferdinand in therole of national hero to the 
throne of Spain. But hero Ferdinand never was. He desired 
first and foremost the favour of Napoleon, and what manliness 
he possessed quickly dissolved at Bayonne. As for 
The settlement the Emperor, he had decided that it was impossible 

of Bayonne. f , .., , . 11,1 

to work any longer with such miserable tools. 
Ferdinand was forced to restore the throne to his father, and 
Charles was only too glad to escape from his difficulties by 
putting it at the disposal of Napoleon. A month later the 
news rang through the Peninsula that the ancient Crown of 
Spain and the Indies had been set on the head of Joseph, 
brother of the Corsican usurper. The American colonies 
there and then threw off their allegiance. 

It can scarcely be doubted that Napoleon had failed to 
gauge the peculiar temper of the Spanish people. The fierce 

pride, national, local, and personal, which could 
SiaraS ish never abandon dignity or self-love amid the 

meanest surroundings or the most convincing 
failures, was alien to his experience. Equally unintelligible 
was the harsh uncompromising spirit which the grim type of 
Catholicism long maintained by the Inquisition had planted 
deep in the hearts of the people. Superficially, Spain wore 
the aspect of a land ripe for the blessings which the Revolu- 
tionary armies brought in their train. Nowhere were the 
privileged classes so numerous, nowhere did the nobility 
contribute less to national burdens. In no other county 
did the Church own a greater proportion of the soil or exercise 
so strong an influence. Poverty cast a blight over the land. 

The influx of the precious metals from America 
Poverty and had nrs t destroyed the incentive to industrv, and 

misgovernment -,-,-,.. _ i i n i i ,, 

of Spain. had ultimately raised all prices beyond the means 

of a thriftless people. Trade was held in contempt 
by native Spaniards, except in the seaport towns ; the alien 
traders, both Moors and Jews, had disappeared before the 
determined policy of the Inquisition ; governmental restrictions 


shackled every kind of enterprise. Enactments prescribing a 
maximum price for food destroyed agriculture at a blow ; the 
countryside was deserted and often unsafe ; the town popu- 
lation in casual employ increased ; while noble and peasant 
starved in the provinces. Rank and blood commanded an 
almost superstitious respect, and the repressive clerical 
ascendancy imparted an unnatural stiffness to national 
manners while it discouraged intellectual activity. 

Yet Spanish pride asked nothing better than to be left alone. 
Administrative reform had been tried before and had been 
as little acceptable to the subjects of the energetic Charles III, 
as to those of his younger contemporary, Joseph II. Vainly 
did Napoleon hope to conciliate Spanish feeling by the reforma- 
tion of abuses. Each new improvement was but another 
symbol of the hated " Interloper," Joseph, the man whom all 
good Spaniards firmly believed to be a drunken, cross-eyed, 
misshapen dwarf. The advantages of enlightened government 
as compared with ancestral ways presented as little attraction 
to the mass of the population as they would to the wild hillmen 
of our own Indian frontier to-day. 

But Napoleon had doubtless relied upon other forces than 
those which sound administration could rally to his support. 
He saw in Spain a government so centralised 
that, with the one exception of the Church, any 
influence save that of the King and his imme- 
diate entourage had ceased to count. The mediaeval Cortes of 
three Estates had long since fallen into disuse or had been 
abolished in all the provinces ; except in Navarre and the 
Basque country, where the local immunities or fueros were 
still jealously maintained. The central Cortes of Castille, 
with mediaeval powers and a mediaeval constitution, had been 
reduced to a shadow, and met for the last time in 1789. The 
Council of Castille, consisting of advisers nominated by the 
Crown, enjoyed a position of dignity rather than influence, 
and the work of government fell to a select Committee known 
as the Camara Real, which contained the secretaries of the 
various departments of state, responsible severally to the 
King and mere removable servants of his will. Yet even 
in this smaller body few decisions of importance were made. 
The informal camarilla, or clique of the King's personal 
companions and friends, swayed in the last resort the policy 
of the State. Paralysis and centralisation went hand in hand. 

Nor were the evils of the system compensated for by any 

56 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

elements of independent strength in local government. Ap- 
pointed by royal authority, the corregidores ruled the towns 
and the captains-general the provinces uncontrolled by local 

There were thus no institutions round which the patriotism 
of Spain could rally, no organisation which could absorb and 
discipline the passionate energy and enthusiasm, which the 
attack on the French garrison of Madrid and the capitulation 
of General Dupont to the raw troops of Castanos 
The Spanish up- at Bailen evoked all over the country. All the 
Napoleon. 81 more amazing is the spirit which within a few 
weeks covered Spain with local Juntas or com- 
mittees of resistance, and by September had gathered repre- 
sentatives from them all in a Supreme Central Junta at 

In this popularly appointed body, and in an atmosphere of 
storm and stress, a new element appeared in the political life 
of Spain. The loyalty of the nation to the Crown 
junta. entral anc * to ancient ways had found its expression in an 
assembly elected on frankly democratic lines and 
driven every day to subordinate existing rights ; traditions and 
customs to the necessities of national defence. It was no 
doubt with the aim of reconciling a devotion to the past with 
the supreme needs of the present that, in the absence of their 
King, the Junta decided to summon the ancient Cortes. But 
the details of the proposal reveal how far they were drifting 
from tradition. The three Estates were to be replaced by 
two Houses, and the colonies were to be invited to send 

The on-coming tide of French invasion obliterated yet 
more of the ancient landmarks. The Junta was driven back, 
first to Seville, finally into the Isle of Leon, and there resigned 
its authority into the hands of a Committee of Regency 
The c te charged as a first duty with the task of summon- 
ing the Cortes. In these surroundings, new 
influences came into play. The uncompromising spirit of 
men fighting with their back to a wall combined with the 
popular tendencies of the commercial towns of the south. 
The Regents found themselves obliged to yield to the demand 
for a single Chamber. This assembly, appointed by a compli- 
cated process of election, met in the autumn of 1810. But the 
distance of the colonies, the occupation of more than half the 
country by the French, the want of familiarity among Spaniards 


with voting under any conditions resulted in an- enormous 
proportion of vacant seats. These were hastily filled with 
persons on the spot who could show any claim to be con- 
nected with the unrepresented districts. The views of the 
Cortes were not the views of Spain, but those of Cadiz and 
the maritime towns. 

The proceedings of the Cortes need not claim attention in 
detail. They were characterised by a growing self-importance, 
by a steady tendency towards "progressive" views, and by 
financial expedients, such as the sale of royal domains and 
Church property, certain to be called into question in the 
event of a restoration. It was the sense of the incompatibility 
of much that had been done with the traditional principles of 
Spanish government that led finally to the promulgation of that 
famous Constitution of 1812, which was destined 
to become the panacea for all the ills of the 
body politic in the eyes of revolutionary opinion 
in the south of Europe. The popularity of this Constitution 
and its essential weakness sprang from the same root. It 
was a party settlement designed to maintain a system which 
had come into being under wholly exceptional circumstances, 
and it took no account either of the past or of the actual facts 
of the existing situation. It affirmed the sovereignty of the 
people and bound the royal power in fetters. Ministers were 
made responsible to the Cortes and not to the King. The Cortes 
was to draw up a list from which the Crown should nominate 
the Council of State. Care was taken that the popular will 
should prevail in all cases of disagreement by omitting to pro- 
vide a second Chamber and by the regulation that the royal veto 
should not take effect in the case of measures thrice approved 
by the Cortes. Such arrangements have of late found 
respectable advocates, but were plainly unsuitable to Spain 
in the early part of the nineteenth century. The whole was 
plentifully seasoned with the inexperience and suspicion of 
the amateur legislator. A new Cortes was to be elected 
every two years. No member could sit in two successive 
Chambers, nor was any permitted to hold office of any sort. 
The election of members required four successive processes. 
Thus there was created a system incapable of acquiring the 
unmistakable support of national opinion or that experience 
and sense of responsibility essential to the working of demo- 
cratic institutions, while armed with an unrivalled power of 
making government impossible. 

58 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

Even in the Cortes itself these provisions had by no means 
met with unanimous approval, and the majority dwindled 
daily as elected members from the districts 
?elcSon ng f cleared of the French armies replaced the nomi- 
nees who had occupied the vacant seats. But 
in proportion as the hour of the King's return drew nearer, 
the more uncompromising became the attitude of the majority. 
Even the Inquisition, though it had long since ceased to be 
mischievous, was abolished before the Chamber was dissolved 
and before the first Cortes elected under the new Constitution 
had assembled. It was at once apparent how little the sweeping 
changes of the previous year represented the deliberate judg- 
ment of the country. The Liberates now commanded only a 
trifling majority. Unregarded and almost forgotten, the 
representatives of the nation passed resolutions restraining the 
King from exercising his powers till he had sworn obedience 
to the Constitution, and ordering him to proceed direct to 
the capita] by a route selected by themselves. Spain cared 
little or nothing for their resolutions. The battle of Vittoria 
had been won (June 1813), and Wellington had thrust the 
invader north of the Pyrenees (1814). 

The crisis of Spanish history had now arrived. A group 
of men, self-important, inexperienced, but at least patriotic 
and well-meaning, had been led on step by step 
Sle e aesS)ration. * impose upon Spain a system unsuitable to its 
traditions and ways of thought. An exiled 
prince was on his way to resume the throne of his ancestors 
with no other thought than that things would be as they 
had been before he crossed the frontier, in a land where the 
old distinctions of class and the old subordination to authority 
had in fact been broken up by six years of frenzied local 
and individual effort. 

It was the supreme misfortune of Spain that at this 
moment there was " none to take her by the hand of all the 
sons she had .brought forth." No Stein arose to reconcile the 
old and the new, nor, if there had been any one of his greatness 
and insight, is it probable that the spirit of insubordination 
which guerilla warfare and Junta government had let loose 
would have suffered men to bow to his authority. 

There was but one man who commanded at the moment 
the obedience and loyalty of Spain Ferdinand, the " Long- 
Desired," and he was miserably unequal to one of the great 
opportunities of history. Sentimental historians have loved to 


paint him as a monster. He was, unfortunately for his country, 
a man of a type only too common where a loose character 
and an untrained intelligence go together. Des- 
titute of moral enthusiasm he recognised none 
of the duties which a ruler owes to his sub- 
jects. To him Spain was his patrimony, and authority his 
hereditary right. Devoid of breadth of intelligence, he failed 
to read the signs of the times or to recognise the altered con- 
ditions of Spain in 1814. Gifted neither with industry nor 
administrative ability, he took no pleasure or interest in the 
work of government. Nevertheless he was a man to be 
reckoned with. He commanded the hereditary devotion of 
Spaniards. And, if like other restored princes, he had for- 
gotten nothing, he had at least learnt something from the 
humiliation at Bayonne a reserve which never trusted mortal 
man, and a coarse shrewdness which tore all the fine disguises 
off naked facts. He dominated other men in his day of 
power by a bullying satirical bonhomie, and when beaten by 
circumstances evaded the consequences of defeat by a vulgar 
bluff good humour which covered the shameless mendacity of 
his professions. He likened himself to the cork in a bottle of 
beer preventing the liquid from running over in froth. And 
if he had known how to exercise this useful function he might 
have done good service to Spain. As it was, he inflated by 
repression the fanaticism and pedantry of the party in opposi- 
tion, while he infected authority with a minute and irritating 
intolerance, characteristics which were to dominate Spanish 
history for many a long day. 

His intentions were not long left in doubt. The civil 
message to the Regents and to the Cortes who had appointed 
them, which preceded him across the frontier, was 
more than ambiguous in tone. Once on Spanish Re-estabiish- 
soil, he ostentatiously defied the restrictions Soiutism. 
imposed upon his movements, and from Valencia 
he finally issued a declaration, in which he refused in plain 
terms to maintain the existing constitution or to recognise the 
validity of the acts of the Cortes. To the vague promises of 
constitutional government and the denunciation of despotism 
with which the document concluded his first acts gave the 
lie. Secure in the support of the rank and file of the Army 
(untouched as yet by the opinions which were making way 
among its officers), confident in the goodwill of the Church, 
which the Cortes had alienated by recent legislation, and 

60 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

assured of the passionate loyalty of the mob of Madrid, he 
caused all the chiefs of the popular party to be apprehended 
in their beds and thrown into prison. A thorough proscription 
of all possible opponents now began. Informers were en- 
couraged, military tribunals and sentences of banishment made 
short work of all against whom the least suspicion was breathed. 
The old system of government was restored in every detail; 
and every alienated right and privilege re-affirmed. 

It is small wonder that the national visions of a renewed 
prosperity, which awaited only the return of peace and of 
the King, were never realised. An antiquated and inactive 
administration discouraged every form of local combination 
and enterprise. The interests and prospects of individuals 
and of whole classes had been adversely affected by the sudden 
restoration of the conditions of 1808. Commerce, deprived 
of its mainstay in the resources of the American colonies, was 
in desperate case. Heedless of plots and outbreaks, of the 
snubs of the Congress of Vienna, of the remonstrances of 
England and France, of the good advice of the Czar, Ferdinand 
went on his way. 

Only in one respect did his policy adventure beyond the 
paths of mere repression. The finances of the nation were 
ruined. The recovery of the American colonies, now un- 
willing to part with the independence they had asserted 
against the French, could alone avail to pour a life-giving 
stream of revenue into the exhausted treasury, 
and theArmy ^ n armv was assembled at Cadiz ready for em- 
barkation, and a fleet was purchased from Russia 
to protect the transports. But the fleet proved wholly un- 
seaworthy, and, while the troops awaited fresh arrangements, 
the blow was struck which precipitated the impending revolu- 
tion. Many of the soldiers had served their time, pay was in 
arrear, the enterprise to which they were committed (the 
reconquest of a whole continent by a few brigades) might well 
appear hopeless, the long voyage in unseaworthy ships excited 
their terrors, few believed that they should see their native 
land again. Freemasonry, with all its hostility to authority 
and to clericalism, was rife among the officers ; the agents of 
the American colonists and the leaders of public opinion in 
Seville and Cadiz were busy disseminating their views among 
the troops. A conspiracy was organised ; even the Count of 
la Bisbal, who commanded the expeditionary force, had been 
gained over by the plotters. 


The crisis was delayed first by the defection of the 
Count and his denunciation of some of his associates, and 
later by an outbreak of yellow fever which made 
it necessary to isolate the several regiments in cadiz! yat 
separate quarters. But on the first day of the 
year 1820, Rafael Riego, commander of the regiment of 
Asturias, declared for the Constitution of 1812, and appre- 
hended the General in command with his staff, while Colonel 
Quiroga, the chief selected by the conspirators, made an 
attempt to occupy Cadiz. Foiled by the officer in command 
he retired into the Isle of Leon, where he was soon blockaded. 
Thereupon Riego started at the head of 1500 men to visit the 
quarters of the regiments which had not yet declared in favour 
of the movement. Their commanders withdrew the troops 
out of his reach, His efforts to rouse the towns of Andalusia 
were attended with no better success. Losing men every day 
by desertion he took to the mountains, and there his force 
finally dispersed. The military revolt seemed to have ended 
in a complete fiasco, and the man whose childish vanity, 
absurd self-importance and essential incompetence were not 
to prevent him from becoming the idol of the popular faction, 
seemed to have stultified himself by his precipitation and by 
his failure to enlist support. 

The towns of the northern seaboard saved the credit of 
the mutineers. Corunna burst into revolt, appointed a 
Junta and proclaimed the Constitution. The 
example was extensively imitated. Spain had Son?f e i82o" 
learnt the lesson of local self-help, and in less 
than a month the country was in flames. When the Count 
of la Bisbal carried over his forces to the revolutionary cause 
the issue was decided. Ferdinand had no choice but to 
yield, for the mob and the army had joined his opponents. But 
the revolutionary party were still monarchist to a man, and 
the King's utter shamelessness stood him in good stead. He 
readily assented to the convocation of the Cortes and placed 
himself in the meanwhile under the direction of a provisional 
Junta. His personal utterances were full of an easy cynical 
good-humour, his public proclamations rang with the high- 
sounding political moralities dear to his opponents. He 
swore solemnly to maintain the Constitution of 1812 and 
postured upon balconies to cheering crowds. Doubtless his 
satirical humour enjoyed many of the fatuities of the moment, 
the mobs who hugged copies of the Constitution to their 

62 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

hearts, the Chairs of the Constitution from which its blessings 
were to be expounded in the Universities, his own new title 
of " the Great " and the proposal to erect a statue in his 
honour surmounted by a civic crown. 

But the situation was more serious than he supposed. He 
might indeed appoint his old victims of 1814 as his ministers, 
but the whole temper and tone of the members of the new 
Cortes had long outrun the views of these mild revolutionaries. 
Crown and ministry were face to face with a violent ill- 
balanced opposition of extremists who called themselves the 
Exaltados. The first trial of strength took place 
. over tne attempt of the ministers to effect an 
economy by the disbandment of the army. In this 
endeavour they fell foul of the popular idol, Riego, exalted by 
a success which he had done nothing to win to the supreme 
command of the troops. Summoned to Madrid he was received 
with extravagant honours by the extremist political clubs 
which honeycombed the capital, and only with great difficulty 
was a decree obtained removing him to a distant command 
and suppressing his supporters. 

The violent party now found unexpected allies. The anti- 
clerical measures of the Cortes had called into existence an 
extreme absolutist and reactionary party who called themselves 
the Apostolicals. Encouraged by their appearance the King 
planned a military coup d'etat, and as a preliminary step 
transferred the command in New Castille to an officer whom 
he could trust. The result was another humiliation, a renewed 
prevalence of extreme counsels and the recrudescence of the 
political clubs. Moreover, inspired by a common hatred, the 
Apostolicals worked hand in hand with the Exaltados to 
secure the resignation of the ministry. 

Amid threats of European intervention, the time for 
electing a fresh Cortes arrived (1822). The new assembly 
differed widely from its predecessor. Composed principally 
of journalists and lawyers it was less inclined than ever to 
moderate courses. Meantime, while Riego and his friends 
defied the central authority in the provinces, the Apostolicals 
had seized and fortified Urgel on the French frontier and 
declared against the government. If ever intervention was 
justified in the cause of order and common-sense the case 
seemed to have arisen. 

To Metternich it had hitherto fallen by the accident of 
Austria's needs to guide the counsels of Europe. A congress 


had already been summoned at Verona for the autumn of 
1822. But the Austrian Minister was in difficulties. At all 
costs the Czar's design of interfering as the man- 
datory of Europe must be prevented. This could Europe and 
scarcely be done without imposing the duty upon revolution. 
France. And this solution, unless England's 
consent could be secured, bristled with perplexities. Some 
means must therefore be found of inducing England to co- 
operate with the allies. The news, received at Laibach, of a 
rising against the Sultan in Moldavia seemed to offer common 
ground of interest and action to England and to Austria. As 
the question developed it appeared doubtful if England could 
long dispense with Austrian support. 

This question was nothing less than the Eastern question 
in all its complexity. Not the least of the many antagonisms 
which beset any attempt at its solution was the 
mutual suspicion between England and Russia 
which had first taken shape after the Treaty of 
Tilsit, by which Napoleon appeared to have delegated to 
Alexander all his designs against England's Indian empire in 
return for Russian support in Western Europe. The con- 
quests of Catherine II already reached to the Black Sea, and 
Alexander's own operations on the Danube and in the Caucasus, 
to be noticed elsewhere (p. 130), had not tended to allay 
England's suspicion. Her statesmen already dreamed of 
Russia astride of new routes to India, by way of Asia Minor 
and the shores of the Red Sea, shorter than the long sea 
voyage round the Cape. 

The Eastern Question itself arose out of the assumption 
that the Turkish Empire would sooner or later fall to pieces, 
and that the Turks themselves would be expelled from Europe. 
The question, propounded in its simplest form, was the problem 
of finding a successor to the Turkish authority. The character 
of the Ottoman rule seemed to give some warrant for the 
assumption, a community of blood and faith with the subject 
populations, and certain treaty rights which had been vigorously 
pressed, seemed to point to Russia as the destined heir. 

The Turks had entered Europe as a conquering army. 
They had never entirely parted with the character. As in 
the case of other Mohammedan conquerors their 
faith divided them from their new subjects, 
They despised and rejected the civilisation of the 
Eastern Empire ; they failed for the same reason, and indeed 

64 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

scarcely tried, to assimilate their dependents, Even after 
the decay of their military power in the eighteenth century 
they still remained essentially an army of occupation in a 
conquered land. An invading army does not concern itself 
with the civil government of a subdued district. It demands 
its requisitions and its indemnities, and for the most part 
leaves the conquered to raise them how they will. It punishes 
with a severity born of fear attacks upon its own members, 
gives much licence to its representatives, and views all disputes 
between soldier and civilian with a strong prejudice in favour 
of the former. 

Such was in fact the Ottoman rule. A sharp line was 
drawn between the Turk and his Christian subjects, a line 
which could only be passed by those who embraced the 
Mussulman faith. So far as the Turkish government had 
created a system of civil government and equal rights it existed 
for men of the privileged faith alone. Christians were free to 
manage their own mutual relations in their own despised way. 
As for their relations with the true believers, these were left 
undefined, dependent mainly on the caprice and power of the 
latter. The government meantime demanded the haralch or 
poll-tax from its Christian subjects, as well as the land-tax, 
or proportion of produce, which fell on Moslem and Christian 
alike. These taxes were farmed out, generally to the governor 
of the province, but the ultimate apportionment of the 
burden and the actual work of collection were in native 

The Christian population of the Balkan peninsula com- 
prised a strange mixture of interlacing nationalities. Serbs 

and Vlachs predominated along the Danube, 
The Christian Bulgarians in the centre, Albanian, Greek and 
Ea?kans. the Slav elements in the south and in the islands. 

But national lines of cleavage were not empha- 
sised, the division between Moslem and rayah effaced all 
other distinctions. The provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia 
had indeed never come under direct Turkish rule, but were 
administered as dependent states under Christian Hospodars, 
or governors, sent from Constantinople. Servia had struggled 
fiercely for independence from Mussulman rule under the 
heroic Karageorge, ancestor of the present dynasty, an ex- 
sergeant in the Austrian army, turned pig-dealer. But the 
withdrawal of Russian support in 1812 had left the practical 
independence of Servia to be accomplished in another way by 


another pig-dealer, himself also an ancestor of kings, Milosh 
Obrenovich, who, in 1820, secured from the Sultan a grant of 
the government of the province and the title of prince. 

But none of the dependent peoples was more conscious of 
its nationality than the Greeks, though in truth none of 
them contained such diverse racial elements, and 
among these it must be admitted that the pure 
Greek strain, except in the islands, was very far from pre- 
dominating. The population of the Morea was largely Slav, 
that of Greece north of the isthmus mainly Albanian, while 
the language and the traditions around which their pride and 
their hopes centred derived from Byzantium and the Greek 
Empire, and not from ancient Athens. 

It is necessary to examine the condition of the Greek 
people a little more closely. The relations between conqueror 
and conquered which have already been defined did not in 
fact commonly result in the oppression which theoretically 
they appear to entail. In the Morea, the Mussulman popula- 
tion was comparatively small, in the islands negligible, while 
in northern Greece difficulties of communication and the fact 
that whole villages and districts were commonly of one faith 
minimised the occasions of hostile contact. There was nothing 
like serfage nor was the Mussulman conqueror at all universally 
lord of the soil. Moreover the Christian population enjoyed 
something approaching the elements of self- 
government. The only organisation which had 
survived the Turkish conquest was the Orthodox 
Church. The Sultans seized upon it to perform the duties 
they were unwilling to undertake. The Patriarch of Con- 
stantinople became the representative of the Christian popula- 
tion, almost a minister of the Porte charged with their super- 
vision as a special department. The Bishops were the judges 
and civil magistrates of the Christian districts. And while 
the higher clergy were somewhat degraded and their influence 
imperilled by this official position, the local priests kept alive 
a national consciousness which was based on a religious 

Furthermore, the needs of the revenue developed something 
like a system of local government to facilitate collection. In 
the Morea, where it was most completely organ- 
ised, each community elected its own Demogeront, ment. g vern " 
who apportioned taxation among individuals and 
helped to appoint similar officers called Proestoi for the district, 

66 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

who in their turn elected Primates for each province whose 
duty it was to meet the Pasha of the Morea in Council. These 
officials, though often by the necessities of their position 
oppressive, were natural leaders of the people, and the principle 
of local collection in one form or another, with similar results, 
obtained throughout the country. 

Nor were the Greeks destitute of the elements of military 
strength. In the mountainous districts of northern Greece, 
The Kie hts ^ e mam ^ enance f the peace and the protection 
of the mountain passes had long been in the 
hands of irregular bands of Christian militia, or Armatoli, 
recognised by the Porte, but not very clearly distinguishable 
from the brigands, or Klephts, whom they hunted ; and when 
the policy was initiated of replacing the Armatoli by Albanian 
mercenaries, adventurous individuals and even whole bands 
of the former defenders of the country adopted the profession 
of the Klepht, commanding a certain popular admiration as 
heroes of ballad and story, which their savage doings did little 
to conciliate or deserve. Brigandage, too, was not uncommon 
in the Morea, but the fighting men of the south were the 
Mainotes of the mountain fastnesses of the ancient Taygetus, 
a proud race of plunderers and pirates. 

Encouraged by the Sultans of the early part of the 
eighteenth century, who saw their commerce falling into the 
hands of foreigners, the Greeks had built up a 
considerable naval power. The Albanians, who 
had settled in Hydra and Spezzia, and the Greeks 
who had colonised Psara and Kasos, paying light taxes or 
furnishing a contingent to the Ottoman fleet, rapidly became 
prosperous commercial communities. Whether governed by 
an oligarchy of ship-owners, as at Hydra, or by a democratic 
assembly, as at Psara, they were practically independent of 
the Suzerain power. An immense stimulus was given to their 
activity by a system of profit-sharing between owners, captains 
and crews, and they went armed to the teeth for fear of Algerine 
Corsairs. Only discipline and unity of action was lacking to 
convert their fleets into a formidable fighting force. 

But it was not on the mainland of Greece nor in the 
islands that the intellectual leaders of Greece were to be 
The Phanariots sou nt - ^ n tne quarter round the Phanar, or 
lighthouse, of Constantinople was settled a com- 
munity whose leaders were men of high training and intelli- 
gence, who had amassed wealth by commerce and gained 


influence and experience in official positions under the Sultan. 
Many of these Phanariots travelled, took service under Russia 
or came in contact with the ideas of the time at Paris and in 
the other capitals of Europe. It was at Paris that Adamantios 
Korais devoted himself to the work of recovering 
for Greece the Hellenic heritage of pride in the 
past by his editions of the classics, and of showing 
in his introductions and other writings how the popular 
tongue could be purified of its foreign elements and brought 
into close connection with the ancient speech, without ceasing 
to be the language of the people. 

But the vision of a revived Hellas, however calculated to 
fascinate Europe, scarcely blended at all with the ideal 
aspirations after liberty which the French Revolution had 
generated among educated Greeks. Still less did it colour 
that mixture of vague hatred, humiliation, and fear prevailing 
among the vulgar, which sprang from a large measure of real 
independence coupled with a status exposed to all the possi- 
bilities of such cruelty and caprice as tales and memories of 
sporadic outrage everywhere recorded. Those 
who founded at Odessa in 1814 the famous *$$* 
revolutionary society known as the Philike 
Hetairia had nothing less in mind than the restoration of 
the Greek Empire of the East. 

To Russia the eyes of the conspirators were turned with 
confident hope. Upon the Treaty of Kainardji, made with 
the Porte in 1774, Russia based a somewhat doubtful claim 
to a protectorate over the Sultan's Christian subjects ; and 
the character of Alexander, as well as the nationality of hie 
Greek minister Capodistrias, suggested that the hour for 
exercising it in practice was at hand. 

Only a favourable opportunity was now wanting, and this 
seemed to have arrived when, in 1820, Ali Pasha of Janina 
was declared a rebel by his master the Sultan 
Mahmoud II. Born of Christian parents, though 
himself a Moslem, this remarkable Albanian 
adventurer, beginning his career as a common brigand, had 
raised himself by a mixture of audacity, cruelty, and cunning 
from the lordship of his own immediate birthplace to the 
control of all the neighbouring districts, and finally to the 
favour of the Sultan and the Pashalik of the greater part of 
Albania. Criminal as he was he established a wild kind of 
justice and order among these mountains, and, though an 

68 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

utter savage, posed as a patron of learning. But the day 
came when his power attracted the jealousy of Mahmoud, 
already intent upon diminishing the independence of the Pashas. 
The assassination of one of his personal enemies, whom the 
Sultan had favoured, in the very streets of Constantinople, 
filled up the measure of his misdoing. Khurshid Pasha was 
sent against him with the bulk of the Turkish army, and in a 
few months had beleaguered the " Lion of Janina " in his lair. 
The moment had come to act. But the self-appointed 
leaders of the Hetairia were neither soldiers nor statesmen. 
It was necessary to find some one of influence and distinction to 
guide their enterprise. Capodistrias, the Greek minister of the 
Czar, was the obvious man, but knew the mind of Alexander 
too well to accept the dangerous and doubtful honour. The 
choice of the conspirators finally fell on Prince Alexander 
Ypsilanti, son of a former Phanariot Hospodar of 
Ypsifant? Wallachia, now a general in the Russian army. 
No choice could have been more unfortunate. 
Ypsilanti, though not devoid of courage, a fluent talker and 
a man of pleasing manners, was little suited to be the chief of 
a desperate undertaking. He was alike deficient in resolu- 
tion, organising power and judgment of men. Worst of all 
he had no grasp of facts. He already saw himself acclaimed 
the successor of the Byzantine Caesars, and the Russian armies 
moving to his support. 

The plan adopted was an invasion of the Principalities of 
Moldavia and Wallachia with the object of raising the country 
against the Turk. The scheme was enough in 
itself to condemn the common-sense of its pro- 
moters. The Principalities did not know the 
Turk. The peasants, weighed down under serfage to the 
boyars, or nobles, were little likely to respond to revolutionary 
ideas. The boyars themselves hated none so bitterly as the 
Phanariot governors and officials who battened upon them, 
and who alone represented to them the disadvantages of 
Turkish suzerainty. 

With the encouragement of the Greek officials, Ypsilanti 
passed the Pruth. Common prudence would have counselled 
an immediate advance to the Danube and the improvisation 
of a flotilla to deny its passage to the Turk. Ypsilanti chose 
to remain at Jassy, where he affected all the airs of a crowned 
King. Meantime, Karavia, one of his Greek supporters, 
had occupied Galatz, and in defiance of the terms of its 


capitulation had massacred in cold blood, not only the handful of 
Turkish soldiers who held it, but all the Mussulman inhabitants 
in the place. The outrage passed unrebuked and was repeated 
at Jassy under the eyes of Ypsilanti himself. The forces of 
the revolutionists were a prey to divisions. The leaders of 
the native levies scarcely yielded the show of obedience to the 
Hetairist chiefs, and it was some time before an advance took 
place to Bucharest. Here, while the same scenes of mock- 
royalty were enacted, heavy news arrived. Both the Czar 
and the Patriarch of Constantinople had condemned the 
revolt. Ypsilanti falsely declared that these pronouncements 
had been made for form's sake, and that he had private 
assurances that they would be retracted when the proper 
moment arrived. But the Turkish columns had already 
crossed the Danube, and he was obliged to give the word for 
retreat upon the Austrian frontier. 

At Dragashan, a disastrous battle was fought. It had been 
determined to attack and destroy a Turkish detachment, and a 
Greek leader named Georgaki had made arrange- 
ments to cut their retreat as soon as the assault fhe P revoit? n of 
from the front should begin. This turning move- 
ment required more time than had been allowed for it, and 
Georgaki sent a message to head-quarters to postpone the 
frontal attack. The jealousy of Karavia would brook no 
delay, and the annihilation of the Sacred Band of Greek 
volunteers who executed it was the result. Ypsilanti fled 
across the frontier endeavouring to cover his shame by loudly 
asserting that Austria had declared war against the Porte. 

The revolt was over. Two gallant deeds redeemed it 
from infamy. Georgaki, attempting to break through to the 
Russian frontier, was driven into the church tower of a 
monastery at Seko, and after a desperate resistance fired the 
powder magazine and perished in the explosion. The rear- 
guard of the Moldavian rebels, after reaching the Pruth at 
Skuleni, refused to pass the river without fighting and were 
slain almost to a man in the Turkish assault upon their 
entrenched camp. 

But the peril to European peace was by no means at an 
end. The outbreak of revolt in the Morea, to be described in 
the next chapter, made it doubtful whether the 
Czar would long maintain his attitude of in- Sf a ality of 
difference, and a visit of King George IV to 
Hanover in October, 1821, was the occasion of an exchange of 

70 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

views between Castlereagh and Metternich. Both desired 
that the Greek revolution should be allowed to " burn itself 
out " without interference from outside, both were willing to 
bring diplomatic pressure on the Sultan to meet the special 
grievances of Russia and to evacuate the Principalities. The 
Czar proved unexpectedly amenable and agreed to attend the 
forthcoming Congress of Verona. It was no small diplomatic 
success to have averted so easily the intervention of Russia. 

The tragic death of Castlereagh by his own hand at this 
moment (September, 1822) made no immediate change in 
English policy. The spectre of the Eastern 
Congress of Question had, for the moment, been laid, and 
Spanish affairs were to be the main subject of 
discussion at the Congress. England had now no reason to 
bargain away any part of her objection to intervention, and 
Canning was content to take his stand upon Castlereagh's 
previous declarations. Wellington, the British representative 
at the Congress, was instructed to adopt an attitude of " rigid 
abstinence from interference in the internal affairs of that 
country " and to make it clear that England would be "no 
party to affirming the rights of Spain over her colonies." 

The formal breach in the European alliance was now at 
hand. The Conference began with a series of questions asked 
by the French representatives to ascertain the attitude of 
Europe if their government were compelled to interfere beyond 
the Pyrenees. Alexander then put before the Congress his own 
counter- suggestion that he should be empowered by Europe 
to intervene. The proposal was combated as vigorously by 
Metternich as by Wellington, and found no support. Wellington 
now suggested that France should express her wish to main- 
tain the peace, and should ask for mediation. But England 
was the only possible mediator, and her interests were too 
antagonistic to those of France to make her good offices 
acceptable. In this position of affairs, Metternich fell back 
upon the French proposal, and urged that the other Powers 
should give their moral support to the action to be taken by 
France. Wellington was instructed to protest and to with- 
draw from the further discussion of the subject. England's 
separation from the Concert was complete. 

The end of the Spanish crisis was also in sight. The other 
Powers proceeded to address identical notes to the Spanish 
government, and in April, 1823, the Duke of Angouleme 
crossed the frontier at the head of a French army. 


Spain had awaited the event in a blind confidence born of 
the erroneous belief that she had by her own efforts expelled 
the Napoleonic armies from her territory. She 
was quickly undeceived. Her generals turned French inter- 

, * , , i -t i i-i vention in 

traitors, her towns tamely surrendered ; while, Spain. 
profiting by hints which Wellington had dropped 
at Verona, Angouleme, masking what fortresses resisted, 
pushed on to Madrid, whence the unwilling Ferdinand was 
carried off to Seville in the clutches of his retreating advisers, 
the Permanent Commission of the Cortes. Here there was 
much talk and still more division of opinion, while nothing 
stayed the French advance. From Seville the King was 
carried in spite of his protests to Cadiz, only to be followed 
by the French, who commenced the siege in August. Then 
at last the King's captors abandoned the pretence of defending 
him against an invader, and let him go where he would. 
Detained by the mob till he had promised to respect the 
persons and some of the arrangements of his enemies, he did 
not reach the French camp till October. 

The Spanish revolution thereupon collapsed. Angouleme 
behaved like an honourable and upright man, and did all that 
lay in his power to secure the lives and liberties of the defeated 
party. He had already restrained the vengeance of the 
victors at Madrid by show of force. But he was unable to 
stem the tide of reaction or to put any check on the campaign 
of fierce reprisals which Ferdinand now inaugurated. He 
left Spain, sickened by the violence of the government he had 
come to restore, having proved to the world how futile and 
disastrous intervention might be even in a situation which 
seemed most urgently in need of a moderating influence from 



THE solution of the Spanish question adopted at Verona 

had divided England finally from the counsels of the Concert. 

; This result has been popularly ascribed to the 

tion^Qastie"" influence of George Canning. According to a 

C 6 annin nd v * ew once w ^ e ^y ne ^ n ^ s advent at the Foreign 
Office on the eve of the deliberations of the 
Congress inaugurated an entirely new departure in British 
foreign policy. That Canning came into power at a crisis in 
our foreign relations may well be admitted, but the suggested 
account of his influence will not bear examination. The 
principle of " non-intervention " which brought about the 
breach is laid down with great distinctness in the despatches 
and instructions of Castlereagh already quoted in an earlier 
chapter. There is nothing in the European situation as 
developed at the moment the Congress assembled to suggest 
that Castlereagh would have abandoned 'his own principles. 
The Eastern Question which had brought him into momentary 
relations with Metternich seemed to be buried. It may be 
admitted that Canning's weight in the Cabinet had always 
been thrown into the scale against interference in the internal 
affairs of other nations, and attempts have been made to 
prove that his representations deflected Castlereagh from his 
natural bent of policy. The proof breaks down in face of 
the entire consistency of the elder statesman's later attitude 
with that which he adopted at a time admittedly previous 
to the operation of Canning's alleged influence. 

There was in fact no break in the principles which had 
guided England's relations with the Allies, principles defined 
by Canning himself with admirable clearness and ascribed 
to their proper origin in his instructions to Wellington : 
" The rule I take to be that our engagements have reference 
wholly to the state of territorial possession settled at the 
peace ; to the state of affairs between nation and nation ; 


not to the affairs of any nation within itself. I thought 
the public declaration of my predecessor had set this question 
entirely at rest." It is not intended to assert that the policy 
of the two statesmen was identical. The question that 
Canning had to answer was whether, in view of the general 
refusal to admit the English interpretation of the right of 
intervention, it was worth England's while to maintain a close 
co-operation with the Continental Powers. That Castlereagh 
would not ultimately have answered the question in the same 
negative sense is not certain. He had, it is true, valued the 
Concert of Europe as a guarantee of peace, and no just estimate 
of the period with which we have been dealing will fail to 
recognise that in this direction it had achieved appreciable 
results. It is, however, perfectly consistent with such a view 
to hold with Canning that the time had come, or was rapidly 
approaching, when a just regard for national rather than 
European interests would be the surest guide of British policy. 
In this sense he was, as was truly said of him, " more insular 
than European," or as Canning himself put it, " Every nation 
for itself, and God for us all : the time for Areopagus and the 
like of that is gone by." 

These phrases help to explain why the differences between 
the two statesmen have been emphasised and the points of 
similarity have been neglected. The chief differ- 
ence was a difference of temperament. Canning 
was a stranger to the slow tentative methods 
and compromises of a conscientious but not a brilliant diplo- 
matist. He was richly gifted with the fine intellectual powers 
which make for brilliancy. His rapid insight gave the 
qualities of swiftness and assurance to his decisions, his 
eloquence and his glittering phrases never left any doubt as 
to his meaning. These gifts combined with certain flaws of 
nature and training to sharpen the edges of every difference 
of opinion in which he was engaged, and to leave a residuum 
of truth in Metternich's exaggerated description of him as 
" a malevolent meteor hurled by an angry Providence upon 

He was always something of an Ishmaelite in politics. 
Though of gentle birth, the humble and almost squalid 
surroundings of his early life among travelling players sepa- 
rated him from the family influences which were strong in 
politics, a separation which his unconcealed contempt for 
mediocrity still further emphasised. His satirical gifts, his 

74 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

egoism and the later irritability, due to a long exclusion from 
power after notable services to his country, neither conciliated 
distrust nor allayed fear, and to the last he failed in the 
management of men and in the art of carrying others with 
him. England owes him gratitude for great services as well 
as the admiration due to brilliant gifts, but we cannot be 
blind to grave defects in his policy. He gloried in an irritating 
isolation and self-sufficiency which has again and again 
marred England's influence abroad and alienated would-be 
friends : himself a phrase -maker he was at times a victim of 
phrases : too careless to win inferior minds his boldest decisions 
in foreign policy were crippled in characteristic English 
fashion by want of support : while his rapid apprehension of 
the end in view too often took Jess than a sufficient account of 
the means, and committed him to half -measures. 

The French intervention had settled but one, and that 
the less difficult, of the two questions which constituted the 
Spanish problem. On the question of the invasion of Spain 
Canning adopted from the first a rigid attitude of " non- 
intervention," resisting all the efforts made in Parliament 
to engage England on the side of the Spanish Constitution. 
The question of the Spanish colonies in America remained 
yet to be settled. Spain's government of her 
Question of dependencies had often been corrupt and in- 
cofonfe^ nis effective, and the jealous monopoly maintained 
over their commercial relations had been inimical 
to material progress. Thanks to the ability and character 
of her representatives it had seldom been oppressive ; peace 
was maintained and her rule met with general acquiescence. 
Thrown upon their own resources by the Napoleonic conquest 
of Spain, which excited their passionate opposition, and by 
the new constitutional government which was alien to their 
habits, the colonial provinces and towns elected their own 
Juntas and took their own several lines, soon coming into 
conflict with the surviving representatives of royal authority, 
and finally with Ferdinand's determination to re-assert the 
control of the mother country. 

English sympathies were from the first with the revolu- 
tionists. English volunteers had fought on their side, and 
Cochrane had commanded the Chilian navy. Moreover, the 
break-down of the Spanish protective system opened the 
way for English merchants and English investors ; and, by 
the time that Ferdinand had been restored by French arms, 


British material interests were deeply engaged. Alexander 
had openly discussed the possibility of lending assistance to 
Spain to subdue the revolt, and France in undertaking the 
Spanish war had not been uninfluenced by the hope of advan- 
tages in the New World. Her retention of Cadiz seemed 
to point to some such design. Moreover, while Spain had 
offered Monte Video as the price of British support. France 
had even hinted at partition. 

In 1822 the United States recognised the revolutionary 
governments. Canning regarded English recognition as a 
matter of time only, but did not act at once. 
He was deterred by the unwillingness of his Canning and 
colleagues, by his own formula of non-inter- America, 
vention, by some respect for the rights of Spain, 
and by a well-grounded doubt as to the stability of the new 
governments. Nevertheless, it can scarcely be doubted that 
the wiser and bolder policy would have been to take immediate 
action, for time was not likely to remove any of the difficulties, 
and in the meanwhile he incurred all the discredit which 
attached to his known intentions. 

To define his attitude and to keep his hands free he pro- 
posed to the United States a joint expression of opinion 
embodying the assertions that reconquest seemed hopeless, 
and that recognition was a question of time. To this was 
to be added a declaration that the two powers, while offering 
no opposition to reconciliation with the mother country and 
disclaiming all intention of seeking advantages for them- 
selves, would not permit interference from elsewhere. This 
proposal was rejected. The United States, intensely 
jealous of England, were nervously afraid of appearing in 
the character of her satellite, and required as a condition 
of joint action that Canning should proceed to immediate 
recognition. France now asked for a Congress, and Canning 
retaliated by appointing Consuls to represent English trade 
interests at the Spanish American ports, and by despatching 
a commission to report upon the advisibility of recognising 
the fait accompli. 

While he yet delayed, the American government, guided 
by Adams, had thrown down the " Monroe Doctrine " as a 
gage to Europe. This famous declaration of 
President Monroe asserted, first, that the United 
States did not admit the existence in America of 
any field for further colonial acquisitions by European Powers, 

76 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

and, secondly, that, while recognising the validity of Spanish 
claims, the government of Washington would not view with 
indifference any efforts of the Allies to extend their political 
system to the New World. The Republic thus snatched for 
herself the credit of an act originally suggested by Canning, 
while evading a connection which his more decided action 
would have imposed upon her, and which would have assured 
to England that to which her possession of Canada entitles 
her, the right to share a moderating influence upon the 
destinies of the western hemisphere. 

The only course now left to Canning, short of immediate 
recognition, was to offer his mediation to Spain, and, when 
the offer was rejected, the fear of being forestalled by 
France in return for commercial advantages led him to the 
inevitable step. " I called the New World into existence to 
redress the balance of the Old, " were the words with which 
he concluded the justification of his policy to Parliament. 
This brilliant piece of tinsel was as little warranted by the 
contemporary condition of South America as by its subse- 
quent history, but the personal boast which it contains is 
scarcely an exaggeration. The English recognition was decisive. 

The relation between the Old and the New Worlds, between 
an absolute monarchy and popular movements, had created 
problems in Portugal which, though different in form, brought 
similar antagonisms into play. At the outset of the Napoleonic 
invasion the reigning queen, Maria I, had withdrawn with 
her court to the colony of Brazil, and her son 
n 6 an( ^ successor John VI had been unwilling to 
return after the expulsion of the French. But 
Portuguese pride soon became acutely conscious of a change 
which exhibited the mother country in a new and dependent 
relation to her former colony. The irritation was increased 
by the predominance of English influence, represented by 
Marshal Beresford's position at the head of the military forces 
of Portugal and by his known influence with the King. In 
1820 the army and the country broke into revolution against 
the Regency during Beresford's absence, and demanded the 
inevitable Spanish constitution. The ancient Cortes were 
summoned, and at once began a series of sweeping changes of 
the fashionable type. 

The good-natured irresolute King found himself between 
contending forces. His determined Queen, Carlota sister of 
Ferdinand VII, opposed concession, and her younger son 


Miguel, a youth of no capacity, shared her views. But 
the influence of the elder son Pedro was set against so 
impracticable a policy. He had already shown 
some sympathy with popular claims, and his The Court 

,. J i i , i i j_i returns to 

active mind dominated his lather s wavering Europe. 
nature. King John promised to treat with the 
Cortes and to send Pedro to Europe for the purpose. 
He was finally induced, sorely against his will, to cross the 
Atlantic in person, and landed in Portugal in 1821, leaving 
Pedro behind as Regent. 

The task he had undertaken proved too great for his ability 
and resolution. A constitution on the Spanish model was 
indeed accepted in 1822, but the King found himself at 
once exposed to all the forces of reaction openly encouraged 
by the Queen's refusal to recognise the new system. The 
year 1823 brought with it the French intervention in Spain, 
and every diplomatic effort was made to neutralise British 
counsels at Lisbon, and to draw Portugal within the circle 
of French influence. The King was invited to 
co-operate against the Spanish revolutionists, 
and given to understand that help would be 5p c e in . 

* ,1 & -e i i . T . re Portugal. 

forthcoming if he desired to effect any changes 
at home. Canning's position was somewhat delicate. The 
dislike of English interference was strong in Portugal, and 
Europe was eagerly watching to denounce him for violating 
his own formula of " non-intervention." But the formal 
alliance subsisting between the two countries gave him the 
right to define his position and a logical principle of action. 
John was informed that the alliance bound England to his 
defence in case of attack, but did not contemplate the support 
of Portuguese aggression. 

Foiled in their attempts to win over the King, the French 
agents proceeded to encourage Miguel, who was now recognised 
as the leader of the reactionary party, to attempt 
a coup d'etat. At the head of an armed revolt he Lisbon?" at 
demanded amid general applause the abrogation 
of the new Constitution ; and the Cortes dispersed with- 
out resistance. But the people were by no means anxious 
to see the restoration of all the abuses dear to the victorious 
party, and the King, under the guidance of Palmella, recog- 
nising that the unpopularity of the Cortes had been due in 
some measure to the defects of an unworkable Constitution, 
proceeded to appoint a committee to draft a fresh one upon 

78 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

the British model. Meanwhile, he took the step of asking 
armed support from England. 

Canning was in great difficulties. He was asked in plain 
terms to interfere in the internal affairs of another country. 
He fell back upon half-measures. No troops were sent, but 
a squadron was despatched to Lisbon to give " moral support " 
to the authorities, and to guarantee the King's personal 
safety. Miguel at the head of the army once more resorted 
to violence, capturing the reins of government 
and driving his father to take refuge on the 
British flag-ship. By the very completeness of his success he 
had, however, over-reached himself. The French could not 
openly support a plain act of rebellion, and, after a vain 
attempt to recover European support by an apology, he 
found himself completely discredited among his own followers, 
and obeyed the order which sent him into exile. 

While the rival tendencies at Lisbon remained evenly 
balanced the problem was complicated by a new phase in 
the relations of Portugal and Brazil. The 
SSpendent ed s y m pathies of the Regent Pedro had originally 
been enlisted in favour of the Portuguese con- 
stitutional movement. This sympathy had been dissipated 
by the action of the Cortes themselves. They had declared all 
the new institutions which King John had given to Brazil null 
and void, had issued a peremptory summons to the Regent 
to present himself at Lisbon, and had showed every intention 
of insisting on the old supremacy of Portugal. Pedro was thus 
placed in a serious dilemma between loyalty to his father's 
government and his duty to Brazil. Circumstances decided for 
him. The independence of Brazil was proclaimed, and Pedro 
became its first Emperor (1822). Canning at once offered 
mediation, a step which entailed for the moment the complete 
sacrifice of British influence at Lisbon. It was only with great 
difficulty that the obduracy of Portugal was overcome, a 
threatened Congress of Europe staved off, and a treaty signed 
at Rio acknowledging Brazilian independence (1825). Almost 
at the same time changes in the French ministry resulted in 
the recall of the French ambassador at Lisbon, and in the 
adoption by France of a neutral attitude. 

The treaty had made no mention of the Portuguese suc- 
cession. It was generally assumed that, as Pedro had an- 
nounced his intention of resigning the Portuguese crown, 
he would do so in favour of his brother Miguel, and that the 


strife of parties would automatically cease as soon as the latter 
had no personal ends to serve by posing as a reactionary. 
But when John VI died in 1826, Pedro chose, 
doubtless with the best intentions, to take a line The Portuguese 
of his own, and to develop his original policy question!* 1 
towards Portugal. The late King's committee had 
not succeeded in producing a constitution. Pedro accordingly 
granted one of his own royal motion to the Portuguese people, 
and immediately resigned the crown, not in favour of Miguel, 
whom he distrusted, but of his own seven-year-old daughter 
Maria da Gloria. It was, however, provided, to meet the 
wishes of the Powers, that Miguel should ultimately mairy 
the young queen, and should, in the mean time, act as Regent. 
These arrangements were no doubt devised in the hope that 
the Constitution would have time to take root, that Miguel 
would meantime keep quiet, and that the parties would 
ultimately be reconciled. 

This confidence was misplaced. The arrangement had 
all the defects of a compromise. Portugal was not likely 
to accept with enthusiasm a ruler provided by Brazil. If, as 
was possible, Miguel was too strong to be set aside, he should 
have been frankly accepted. Strife began at once. The 
new Constitution, though recommended by the influence of 
Canning, had to be forced upon the Council by the threats 
of the Portuguese commander at Oporto. Outbreaks occurred 
all over the country. Canning's hands were still tied by his 
refusal to take sides in a civil war. But finally a body of 
Portuguese exiles, equipped by Spanish assistance, crossed the 
frontier and gave him an excuse for action. Five thousand 
British troops were sent to Lisbon to resist by intervention 
this attempt at intervention, the invaders were beaten and 
order was restored (1826). 

Meanwhile, Miguel, having taken the required oaths, landed 
to find himself the hero of all who detested " the Brazilian," 
his Constitution, and British interference. He 
assumed his position of Regent, and professed Jggljj. becomes 
no desire but to act in that capacity. He then 
dissolved the Chambers, which were not again summoned. 
It was plain that he meant mischief, and, when he next moved, 
Canning no longer lived to restrain him. England had, in fact, 
scored a diplomatic triumph without effecting a settlement, and 
had barely saved the principle of " non-intervention." It 
was, indeed, well-nigh as difficult to maintain amid the clash 

80 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

of national interests as that of "intervention" itself, and we 
shall find it abandoned in all but name by Canning himself 
during the complications of the Greek revolution. 

To the beginnings of this movement we shall now retrace our 
steps. Throughout the autumn of 1820 the agents of the Hetairia 
had been active in the Morea inflaming the religious and political 
passions of the population against the Turks. Meanwhile, the 
Moslem inhabitants, though well aware of the agitation which 
was going on in their midst, took no precautions. The official 
leaders of the Greeks . Archbishop Germanos of Patras and 
the primates, who were attempting to organise the outbreak, 
were conscious that popular feeling was getting beyond their 
control, and found themselves summoned by the deputy- 
governor to Tripolitza before their schemes were ripe. Most 
of them evaded the summons on one excuse or another, and 
while they yet hesitated whether to give the word or to 
feign submission, the storm burst. A Turkish tax-collector was 
murdered, and a detachment of Albanian troops 
was surprised and cut up by Klephts. Without 
waiting for their leaders each village and each 
district flew simultaneously to arms. There was no concerted 
plan. Local chiefs were not hard to find. Mavromichales, 
called Petrobey, lord of the Mainotes, and Kolokotrones, the 
Klepht, once in the British service in the Ionian Isles, were 
only the most conspicuous among a host of similar leaders. 

But there was a singular unanimity of action. The rising 
from the first called out all the hideous passions with which 
we are familiar where creed strives with creed in the Nearer 
East, from the Crusades to the present time. The savage 
triumph of the Te Deum sung by Petrobey's hillmen still 
reeking from the slaughter of every male in Kalamata reflects 
the whole spirit of the revolt. All over the Morea the Mussul- 
mans were slaughtered like sheep, and helpless women and 
children were butchered, outraged, and subjected to indescrib- 
able tortures. Of the twenty-five thousand Mohammedans 
who dwelt in the peninsula not one was left alive save a few 
unhappy slaves and those who had escaped into the towns. 
Before the walls of these strongholds scenes were enacted 
in which faithlessness was added to barbarity. At Monem- 
vasia, at Navarino, at Vrachori in Northern 
Greece, terms of surrender were granted and 
shamelessly violated. But the capture of 
Tripolitza inspires the most disgust from the selfishness and 


meanness of the Greek chiefs, which no talk about the heroic 
rage of an oppressed people can palliate. Demetrius Ypsilanti, 
who had come to take command in his brother's name, was 
carefully got out of the way, while the Greek leaders drove a 
shameless traffic in provisions, and in promises of safety to the 
rich inhabitants, till the rank and file, suspecting that they 
were being defrauded of their share of the spoil, broke loose, 
burst into the town and raged for three days like wild beasts. 
It is good for us to remember these things lest we too hastily 
assume that barbarity is the monopoly of the Turk. 

By October, 1821, the whole of the Morea (save Nauplia 
Patras and a few other towns) was in the hands of the insurgents. 
In northern Greece meanwhile their success had 
not been so decisive. Attica and Boeotia had jjjgs e j 
risen, and the Turkish garrison of Athens was Greece. 
besieged in the Acropolis. But Omar Vrioni 
pushed southwards at the head of a Turkish relieving column, 
thrusting before him Odysseus, the most savage and self-seeking 
of all the Greek leaders, and broke up the siege. His retreat 
was, however, rendered necessary by the action of Vasilika 
in the passes of (Eta, where Odysseus cut up the large 
reinforcements which were to have carried the invasion 
across the isthmus. While Ali Pasha still held out at Janina 
no operations were possible against the Greek movements 
in the western mountains north of the Gulf of Corinth. 

It was certainly not Turkish oppression that impelled the 
semi-independent sea-faring communities of the islands to 
join the revolt. The cause must be sought in 
racial and religious hatred and in the distress 
caused by the slackness of trade which followed 
the peace. Spezzia led the way, and Psara was not long in 
following its example. The commercial oligarchy of Hydra 
hesitated, but were forced into the same course by a popular 
movement. Cruelties were enacted at sea similar to those 
which had taken place upon the land, and the fleets gave 
themselves up to a predatory war indistinguishable at times 
from piracy. The Ottoman fleet, which had always depended 
largely upon the Greek maritime communities for its 
supply of seamen, was unable for several months to get to 
sea. When at length it succeeded in doing so its action 
was hesitating and timorous, and the burning of one of its 
vessels by a Psariot fireship in the bay of Eresos drove it 
back in terror under the guns of the Dardanelles. In the 

82 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

meantime, the vengeance of Sultan Mahmoud had fallen 
in characteristic Turkish fashion upon the Phanariot settle- 
ment at Constantinople, where the mob was encouraged 
to rob and murder the Christian inhabitants. Similar scenes 
of barbarity were enacted in other towns of Europe and Asia 
Minor. But what moved the horror of Europe most was the 
execution of the Patriarch Gregorios. The Patriarch was an 
official of the Porte ; he had known of the Hetairist 
tti^Greek f pl ans according to Mussulman theory he was 
Patriarch. a traitor responsible for the acts of those whom 
he represented. On Easter Sunday he was 
solemnly deposed, hanged in his robes at the gate of his palace 
and his body was abandoned to the insults of a Jewish mob. 
Whatever the legal aspects of the case Europe did rightly to 
regard it as an act of vengeance and not of justice, and the 
Orthodox are not to be blamed for regarding the victim as 
a martyr. Feeling in Russia ran high, and it was generally 
expected that Alexander would declare war. He did indeed 
address a protest to the Sultan and withdraw his ambassador, 
but he wavered between his hereditary claims as protector of 
the Orthodox Church under the Treaty of Kainardji and his 
own personal abhorrence of rebellion. Mahmoud half dis- 
armed his hostility by showing that the Greeks had died as 
traitors and not as Christians. 

Victorious over their enemies the Greeks were rapidly 
drifting into anarchy, while their leaders were turning to plunder 
and personal aggrandisement. Government there 
was none, and no attempt was made to remove 
the grievances which the peasants had associated 
with Turkish rule. Germanos and the primates had indeed 
formed a self-elected oligarchical council styling itself the 
Senate of the Peloponnese, which steadily opposed Demetrius 
Ypsilanti, the recognised leader of the Hetairists, and his more 
educated following. To counteract this influence Ypsilanti 
summoned a National Convention to Argos, which was forced 
by the attitude of the oligarchs to move to Epidaurus. Here it 
produceda still-born Constitution, and elected Alexander Ma vro- 
cordatos, a Phanariot whose figure, spectacles, and European 
clothes excited popular ridicule, to the Presidency of Greece. 

There was work at hand to be done too rough for Phanariot 
legislators. In April, 1822, an abortive attempt to rouse 
rebellion in the island of Scio (Chios), attended with the 
slaughter of Moslem prisoners by the raiders, brought the 


Ottoman fleet to the island, "and gave a pretext for an 
abominable crime no less than the wholesale 
massacre or enslavement of an industrious and Massacre of 
peaceful population. This gratuitous piece of 
cruelty was avenged by the Greek fleet under Miaoulis, the 
noblest and most unselfish of all the Greek leaders, and 
occasioned one of the most dramatic incidents of the war. While 
the Ottoman squadron lay at anchor on the night of the feast 
of Bairam, Kanaris the Psariot, guided by the coloured lanterns 
which illuminated their rigging, ran a fire-ship under the quarter 
of the flag-ship of Kara AH, the Capitan Pasha. Crowded with 
the officers of the fleet, the crew, and the prisoners, she burnt 
to the water-line. Scarcely a soul survived. 

By this time Janina had fallen, and Khurshid Pasha was 
free to direct the full weight of the Turkish army against the 
revolutionists. His plan was well-conceived. One 
column under Omar Vrioni was to advance upon Abortive 
Missolonghi, on the Corinthian gulf, cross the Morea? nc 
straits and enter the Morea by Patras ; the other 
under Mohammed Ali, Pasha of Drama (called Dramali), was 
to relieve the Acropolis, cross the isthmus, and in the first 
instance to raise the siege of Nauplia. By the time the latter 
reached Athens the Turkish garrison had surrendered on terms 
and had been butchered, but he had no difficulty in recovering 
the town and in occupying Corinth. At this point he made 
the mistake of despising his foe. Instead of setting himself to 
subdue the country piecemeal from his new base, he struck 
boldly across the difficult passes of the Devernaki for Nauplia. 
The gallant resistance of Argos under Ypsilanti checked his 
progress, and meanwhile Kolokotrones had occupied the 
Devernaki in force. The invader now strove to retrace his 
steps. After a disastrous repulse he managed with a fragment 
of his army to struggle back through one unwatched pass, and 
was shut up in Corinth. Nauplia might still have been saved 
from the insurgents, but the irresolution of the new Capitan 
Pasha prevented his standing in to its help. The capitulation 
was respected, thanks to the presence of a British war-ship. 

The advance of the western column was inevitably delayed 
by Reshid Pasha's preliminary operations for the reduction 
of the Suliots of Albania. The Greeks at Misso- 
longhi under Mavrocordatos took the desperate Astern Greece. 
resolution of marching to their help. They 
were utterly defeated at Peta through the treachery of some 

84 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

Albanian allies, and a corps of foreign volunteers, trained and 
disciplined on the European system, was cut to pieces. This 
unfortunate incident inspired the Greeks from that moment 
with an ignorant contempt for those qualities of disciplined 
troops in which they were conspicuously lacking. The Suliots 
submitted, and Omar Vrioni was free to move against the 
pass of Makrynoros, which he found undefended, and appeared 
before Missolonghi, a mean town lying among shallow lagoons 
and covered by no better protection than a mud rampart and 
a ditch. But his attack was too long delayed, panic among 
the defenders was succeeded by resolution, and the assault was 
repelled with heavy loss. The severities of the winter forced 
the Turks to break up the siege (January, 1823). 

The second phase of the war was now over. It had 
already attracted the attention of Europe. The cause of 
the Greeks had enlisted the enthusiasm of a 
philhellenic. generation more deeply imbued with reverence 
Europe! 116 ' for classical antiquity than ours. Imagination 
painted the Greeks such as their reputed ancestors 
had been, whom in fact they resembled in little save in 
cruelty and factiousness Volunteers went out to their 
assistance, and not a few returned disillusioned. They " came 
expecting to find the Peloponnesus filled with Plutarch's 
men, and all returned thinking the inhabitants of Newgate 
more moral." Among them came Lord Byron to redeem 
his fame by heroic purpose combined with sound common - 
sense. " He," says the same authority, " judged them fairly ; 
he knew that half-civilised men are full of vices, and that great 
allowance must be made for emancipated slaves. ' ' Canning , too , 
sympathised, though he openly expressed his contempt for the 
classical pose of " Epaminondas and Co.," and it was only with 
the practical object of protecting British commerce from their 
piratical enterprises, for which Turkey could not be held respon- 
sible, that in March, 1823, he acknowledged them as belligerents. 
Meantime he took no measures to stop the private assistance 
which found its way from England to the Greeks, a neglect 
against which the Porte protested with some justice. 

The step which Canning had taken was misunderstood, 
His attitude to the Concert and his known sympathies made 
it appear that he contemplated asserting for 
England a position as protector of the Greeks 
which the Czar regarded as his own. Alexander 
accordingly met the Austrian Emperor at Czernovitz to discuss 


the situation. The result was a circular from Russia to the 
Powers suggesting a Conference at St. Petersburg to effect a 
settlement of the Greek revolution by the erection of the 
affected districts into three separate principalities under Turkish 
suzerainty. No proposal could have Jbeen more distasteful 
to Metternich. His consistent^ aim~had been to avert any 
ian" action which might '' 

the Lower Danube, a contingency dangerous _ to Austrian 
interests. He~~ had accordingly at the outset recommended 
that the' re volt should be allowed to " burn itself out outside 
the pale of civilisation." But the Ottoman power of repres- 
sion had failed to respond to his hopes. The semi-independent 
states suggested by the Russian proposal, whatever their 
relation to Turkey, could scarcely be independent of the 
protection of the Czar. With characteristic opportunism 
Metternich accordingly suggested the recognition of Greece as 
a united and independent State. The antagonism thus excited, 
and England's unwillingness to abandon the principle of non- 
intervention. except as mediator between consenting parties, 
brought the conference to grief. England withdrew, and a 
joint note offering the mediation of the other two pofwers 
was rejected by the Sultan (1825). 

All this while the removal of Turkish pressure had let 
loose the differences between civilians and military chiefs, 
and between Moreots and Islanders, in miserable 
wranglings and in two civil wars. It was at this 
moment that the first British loan found its 
way to the revolutionists, to be scrambled for by the greedy 
leaders, leaving the common cause little the better for the 
efforts of its foreign friends, and reappearing too obviously 
in the fine clothes, silver-mounted accoutrements, and lavish 
expenditure of the more fortunate patriots. 

They were recalled to their senses by the greatest peril 
they had yet been obliged to face. The Sultan had bent 
his pride to ask assistance of his ambitious vassal Mehemet 
Ali, Pasha of Egypt. A disciplined army and a magnificent 
fleet were placed at his disposal under the Pasha's son Ibrahim, 
and in June, 1823, as a base for the intended invasion, Crete 
was conquered by the Egyptians with barbarous cruelty. 
A year later the first-fruits of the new alliance 
were seen in the surprise and destruction of the f u?key S . llpP r 
island community of Kasos by the Egyptians, 
and that of Psara byJKhosrew the^Capitan Pasha. Their 

86 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

long account of cruelty and of piracy must temper our 
sympathy with their fate. But the transport of the Egyptian 
armada proved a difficult task, owing to the feeble co-operation 
of the Ottoman squadron in face of the efforts of the Greek 
fleet under Miaoulis ; and the advantage at sea lay with the 
Greeks till the selfishness of the Hydriot seamen, who struck 
for arrears of pay, forced their admiral back to Nauplia. 
Then at length during the winter months Ibrahim crossed to 
Crete and thence to the Morea, landing his force at Modon. 

The Greek irregulars were now to learn the value of the 
military discipline which they had despised. Navarino and 
Pylos were besieged, a relieving force was driven 
back a ^ ^ e P omt f the bayonet near Krommydi, 
the two fortresses capitulated, and the terms of 
surrender were rigidly respected. There was a loud outcry 
against the President Kondurriotes, an islander who retained 
his seat on horseback by the efforts of two grooms, and his 
presidential dignity by the influence of his secretary Kolettes, 
ex-physician to Ali Pasha. But the Klepht chieftains did no 
better, and Tripolitza fell. 

In September, 1825, Ibrahim was called away from the 
reduction of the Morea to assist Reshid Pasha, whose south- 
ward advance in Western Greece had been 
checked by the fortifications of Missolonghi, much 
strengthened and improved since the first siege. 
Again and again his assaults had been repulsed and the 
town had been re victualled by Miaoulis and the fleet. Ibrahim 
and his regulars met with no better fortune. Attack after 
attack reeled back from the town and its outworks, and it was 
decided to invest it by sea and land. The honourable capitu- 
lation offered by Ibrahim was scornfully refused. Famine in 
the end did its work, and then at last the only episode of pure 
heroism to be discovered in the whole war found an appropri- 
ate conclusion in the desperate attempt of the garrison to cut 
its way out by a midnight sortie. But the Egyptians were ready. 
Many of the defenders fled back into the town with the besiegers 
at their heels, and few won their way to safety. Yet the 
defence of Missolonghi deserves to be remembered with another 
heroic failure. It was the Thermopylae of modem Greece. 

Reshid was now free to move against Attica, where the 
bandit chief Gouras held the Acropolis and tyrannised over 
the country. Delayed by the operations of the gallant 
Karaiskakis he had Just succeeded in occupying Athens when 


the new mercenary leaders hired by the National Assembly, 
Admiral Lord Cochrane and General Sir Richard Church, 
appeared on the scene. Their attack upon the 
Turkish positions from Munychia and Phalerum 
ended in a complete fiasco, and was sullied by 
another massacre of prisoners, which Church should have 
been able to prevent. Greece lay at the invader's feet. 
Only the unwillingness of Reshid to join hands with Ibrahim 
gave her another breathing space (1827). 

The systematic devastation of the Morea and the long- 
protracted agony of Missolonghi had already forced upon 
the two most generous minds among European statesmen 
the conviction that a restraint must be put upon the victorious 
Turk. Canning made overtures to the Czar for combined 
action, but with the condition that force should not be used. 
But Alexander had already made up his mind, 
and gave it to be understood that Russia would ^f 
act , even if unaided, cost what it might. The eyes of and 
Europe were upon him as he journeyed southward, 
when the news came that his sad and strange career had ended 
at Taganrog on the shores of the Sea of Azov (Dec., 1825). 
But Canning had met with enough encouragement to persevere ; 
and Wellington, who was sent to congratulate Nicholas on his 
accession, opened communications with the new Czar. A step 
was thus taken fraught with consequences to which in our 
judgment Canning does not seem to have been sufficiently alive. 
In the first place, any attempt to bring pressure on the Turk 
demanded, if success was to be assured, a readiness to sacrifice 
the formula of " non-intervention." In the second place, it 
was necessary for England to abandon frankly her attitude 
of suspicion towards Russia. Canning, in our view somewhat 
disingenuously as well as illogically, hoped to employ " the 
Russian name upon the fears of Turkey without a war," 
and at the same time to restrain Russia from acting alone 
to the disadvantage of England. It was doubtless difficult 
for him to take the rest of the Cabinet with him even as 
far as he was prepared to go, but it would have been better 
in any case, as events proved, to have confronted them with 
all the consequences at once. 

The first result of the negotiations was the Protocol of 
St. Petersburg (April, 1826) by which England, encouraged 
by a conference with the Greek leaders at Perivolakia, where 
they had accepted in principle the solution by which Greece 

88 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

was to become a tributary state, engaged to offer her mediation 
to the Porte. Russia promising her unconditional support. 

The Protocol was described by Metternich as 
sf Petersburg " a ^ ee ^ e an( ^ ridiculous production," and it 

may be admitted that it did not promise to be 
particularly effective, while the attitude of England remained 
what the Austrian chancellor described as a compromise 
between " an English and a Liberal policy." Meanwhile, 
Nicholas had issued an ultimatum to Turkey upon the private 
matters at issue between Russia and the Porte apart from 
the Greek question. The Sultan thus confronted by a double 
set of demands prepared actively for resistance. But a 
reorganisation of the army which touched the privileges of 
the Janissaries threw these troops into open mutiny. The 
mutiny was crushed and the Janissaries were finally exter- 
minated, but Turkey was left in no position to resist the special 
demands of Russia. By the Treaty of Akkerman (October, 
1826) the Porte gave way upon all the points at issue. 

A year passed before action was taken upon the Protocol. 
Canning hoped that English mediation would be accepted 
without bringing in the name of Russia. Meanwhile, Russian 
suspicion grew that the Protocol was a device for preventing 
her separate action. At last the document was presented 
to the Sultan and rejected with scorn. The Russian view 
of the situation was correct. " We are invited to sanction a 
principle. We invite the recognition of its consequences. 
It is part of their civil and religious system that Orientals 
never act save in obedience to absolute necessity." 

In July, 1827, the Protocol was converted into a Treaty of 
London between Russia and England, to which France gave 

her adhesion. The parties to this agreement 
Lon a don f undertook to procure the independence of Greece 

under Turkish suzerainty, without abandoning 
friendly relations with the Porte. It was thought that this 
object might be achieved by blockading Ibrahim in the 
Morea. Before the demands of the allies had been submitted 
to the Porte, Canning was dead (August, 1827). 

The denouement was sudden and dramatic. The joint 
fleet of the three powers commanded by Admiral Codrington 

conveyed to the contending parties a proposal 
Navarino. for an armistice. The Greeks consented, but the 

refusal of the Turks plainly left the revolutionary 
leaders free to continue operations, and their fleet was at the 


moment actively engaged in the Gulf of Corinth. Ibrahim, 
who had been informed of the Treaty of London and lay at 
Navarino under observation of the allied squadrons, stood 
out to sea with the object of proceeding to the Gulf, but was 
headed back by Codrington. At Navarino he found orders from 
the Sultan to disregard any attempt at intervention, and before 
long clouds of rising smoke left no doubt that his ravaging 
columns were again at work. Codrington therefore decided 
upon entering the bay to make a " demonstration." The 
inevitable consequences resulted. The Egyptians refused to 
withdraw a fire-ship, whose position threatened the allies, and 
fired on the boats which attempted to remove it. A general 
action ensued. At the end of two hours the Turco-Egyptian 
fleet lay at the bottom of the bay or drifted a mass of 
battered wreckage towards the shore. 

There could be no further pretence of friendly relations. 
Far better it would have been if the combined fleets had 
forced the Dardanelles in .the first instance and 
dictated terms in the Golden Horn. It would 
have been well if the allies could even now 
have summoned up resolution to do so. Perhaps if Canning 
had lived he might have broken through the pedantry of 
non-intervention. But from the standpoint of his colleagues, 
now under Goderich's leadership, and of the policy of com- 
promises which had been bequeathed to them, Navarino was 
truly enough characterised in the speech from the throne as 
" an untoward event." The naked fact remains that the 
allies had put themselves in the wrong. They had attacked 
a friendly power with friendly professions on their lips. 
Nor can the blame be laid upon Codrington's shoulders. 
The task imposed upon him made collisions all but in- 

Few Powers would have consented to sit still under similar 
aggression, and already Mahmoud's rising wrath scarcely needed 
the spur. He at once denounced the Treaty 
of Akkerman, and it was clear that Nicholas 
could not refuse the challenge, though he did his 
best to reassure Europe as to his intentions. He got no 
support from Wellington, who became Prime Minister in 
1828. Mindful only of India, he desired to do nothing 
further to imperil England's traditional friendship with 

It was thus left for the sword of Russia to cut the knot 

90 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

into which the Greek question had become entangled. With 
the events of 1812 in mind few doubted that 
Russian ad- the war would prove a repetition of the French 
SSSSbS 1 * "military promenade" in Spain. The sword 
of Russia proved none too sharp. The passage 
of the Pruth and the march across the Principalities were 
accomplished without trouble, but serious difficulties began 
at the Danube. In deference to the suspicions of Austria 
it was decided to cross the river near its mouth ; but the plan 
had the disadvantage of exposing the line of communications 
to the Turkish fortresses which covered the middle reaches 
of the river, from Shumla and Silistria westward. The first 
campaign (1828) was therefore devoted to the siege of Varna, 
with the object of securing a new base in communication with 
the fleet. Varna indeed fell, but the Russian army meantime 
suffered from sickness in so unhealthy a district, and from 
all the disorganization of supply and medical service which 
want of experience and distance from the base could combine 
to produce. Few guessed that complete and decisive success 
awaited the despairing troops within six months. 

At the beginning of 1829, Nicholas, recognising with bitter 
disappointment his own failure as a general, selected Diebitsch, 
a Silesian by birth, for the supreme command. 
The new commander had a true sense of the 
value of audacity in warfare. He decided to 
capture Silistria which threatened his rear, mask the bulk of 
the Turkish army at Shumla, and to strike across the Balkans 
at the capital. The first operation involved the weak- 
ening of the forces which covered Varna, and Reshid Pasha 
dashed out from Shumla to profit by the opportunity. But 
Diebitsch appeared from the north upon his flank, overthrew 
the Pasha before he could effect his retreat at Kulevcha, and 
leaving a corps to watch his movements hurried his own columns 
over the Balkans to a new base captured by the Russian 
fleet. Spreading out his tiny force of 13,000 men over the 
country, to give the greatest possible impression of his strength, 
he reached Adrianople. Panic now seized Mahmoud. His 
troops were on the far side of the Balkans, and could onlv 
reach the scene by circuitous passes. He yielded all the 
points at issue the practical independence " of the Princi- 
palities, the freedom of the straits and of the Black Sea to 
the commerce of all nations ; he even swallowed the Treaty 
of London (1829). In the mean time a French expedition 


was sent under General Maison to clear the Morea, only to 
find itself anticipated by Codrington, who, acting on his own 
responsibility, appeared before Alexandria with the fleet, and 
forced Mehemet Ali to recall Ibrahim. 

England and Austria were now at one in the wish to 
cut down the new Greek state to its smallest limits, and 
to abolish the Turkish overlordship with the 
object of guarding against Russian influence The Powers 
either upon vassal or suzerain. The result was independence. 
a Protocol offering the sovereignty of Greece to 
Leopold of Coburg, and adopting as the northern frontier a 
line drawn from the mouth of the Aspropotamos eastwards 
to Mount (Eta. The proposal met with the determined hos- 
tility of Count John Capodistrias, Alexander's ex-minister, 
who had been elected President by the Greeks in 1827. His 
motives were partly personal, partly patriotic. The creation 
of a weak and petty state was a miserable return for years 
of sacrifice and effort, and its limits involved the abandonment 
of communities who had been foremost in the struggle. More- 
over Capodistrias had hoped that the sovereignty would 
have been conferred upon himself. The scheme was wrecked 
by the sudden decision of Leopold to withdraw, under the 
influence of the representations of Capodistrias and of the 
obvious dissatisfaction felt by his future subjects. 

While the Powers, amid the distractions of the July 
Revolution (p. 110), discussed other arrangements, Greece 
was once more a prey to anarchy. The govern- 
ment of Capodistrias will be differently judged capodfsSs f 
according as men value more highly the principles 
of liberty or the elements of civic order. The President had 
been bred in a bureaucratic school, and arrived in Greece to 
find the new democratic institutions exploited by personal 
and local faction. He fell back upon a centralised system 
acting through committees, and supported by the services 
of mercenaries, spies, and the press censor. He was at no 
pains to conceal his contempt for the vanity and self-seeking 
of some of the patriots, and, in his distrust of their leaders, 
showed an unwise preference for his own friends and con- 
nections. Relations were clearly strained to breaking point 
when even Miaoulis could set fire to Greek ships to keep them 
out of the hands of the government. Capodistrias offended 
less scrupulous foes when he attempted to force the Mainotes 
to pay their share of taxation, and imprisoned Petrobey for 

92 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

recalcitrance. Two of the fierce Mavromichales clan sought 
him out and slew him at Nauplia. 

The final settlement was delayed till 1833. By Pal- 

merston's influence a frontier line was adopted from the Gulf 

of Arta to that of Volo, and Otho of Bavaria 

Greec? ing f landed in Greece to assume an authority beset 

with troubles. The Eastern Question had proved 

the final solvent of the European Concert. The several 

Powers had combined, separated, and re-combined at each 

phase of the Greek struggle with all the perplexing variety 

of the kaleidoscope. 



IT is one of the coincidences of history that the dissolution 
of the European Concert had scarcely been achieved when 
the Restoration government in France, the 
establishment of which had been the first work j*jjj*j;j a of 
of the Allies and whose maintenance had furnished tion period!" 
the raison d'etre for their permanent co-operation, 
came crashing to the ground. Few periods of history have 
been more generally misunderstood than the fifteen years in 
France which intervened between the Second Treaty of Paris 
and the July Revolution. The fact is that all the clues to 
the understanding of the period are closely intertwined with 
a web of unfamiliar institutions, protracted debates and 
party combinations, most wearisome when described in detail, 
and quite unintelligible in outline. According to his tempera- 
ment, the distracted reader extricates himself from political 
nightmare by means of one or other of two fatally easy assump- 
tions, and the sufficient explanation for all that happened is 
discovered in the changeable and illogical nature of the French 
people, or in the proverbially stupid and bigoted attachment 
of restored dynasties to theories of Divine Right. It is 
scarcely necessary to observe that these theories neither 
separately nor in combination will account for the facts. 

A sufficient outline of the provisions of the Charter under 
which Louis XVIII assumed the government has been given 
in an earlier chapter. Before proceeding to trace the course 
of the events following his second restoration it is necessary 
to consider some of the essential features and general 
tendencies of the new system. 

The first fact to be grasped is that the Restoration settle- 
ment deliberately maintained the reconstitution of society 
and government effected by the Revolution. No 
attempt was made to touch the Code Napoleon, 
with its recognition of the equality of persons 
before the law and of the freedom of contract. The 

94 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

Concordat with the Pope which brought the Church under 
the control of government and the accompanying measure of 
equal toleration for all religious creeds remained untouched, 
as well as the highly centralised system of local government 
described in Chapter II. All these things had become part of 
the life of France. Any authority that undertook to rule 
Frenchmen must accept them as axiomatic. 

The superstructure, a restored Bourbon dynasty reigning 
under a Constitutional Charter, was the device of Talleyrand, 
a diplomatist rather than a statesman, and was the outcome 
rather of diplomatic exigencies than of a just estimate of its 
adaptability to the rest of the political system. Talleyrand 
had declared for the Bourbons with the immediate object of 
assuring the Powers of the good behaviour of France, and for 
a Charter that he might assure the French of the good be- 
haviour of the Bourbons. It is not difficult to show that 
both the dynasty and the Constitution entailed serious 
difficulties, and that their combined effect was to create a 
force subversive of both. 

It has generally been assumed that Alexander's preference 
for Bernadotte, as the ruler of France to be appointed by 
the Powers, was a fantastic notion arising from 
the a dynty f personal prejudice. It had, however, something 
to recommend it in the remarkable abilities and 
personality of Bernadotte himself, as well as in certain obvious 
objections to the Bourbons. We have already seen how 
destitute they were of all qualities calculated to appeal to 
popular imagination. The manner of their restoration, 
" brought back in the baggage of the Allies," affronted 
national pride, and they remained for many Frenchmen a 
symbol of defeat. A perverted sense of honour attached them 
to externals such as the white flag and the lilies, which were 
a standing offence in the eyes of their subjects. Worst of all 
their return logically demanded the return of the emigres, 
whose noisy partisanship and support of foreign invasion had 
made them almost foreigners in France. It is not too much 
to say that the monarchy might have stood in the keeping of 
a dynasty independent enough to exclude them. 

The Constitution, which has often escaped the criticism 

which has been lavished on the dynasty, presented 

cbn a 8 tftut s ion the in reality at least as many difficulties. The 

problem which any successful constitutional 

system was called upon to solve was two-fold. It was necessary 


somehow to base government upon public opinion, and, what 
was even more important, to create in the organs of public 
opinion a sense of responsibility, a task of extreme difficulty 
among a people without much experience of self-government. 
In dealing with the first aspect of the problem it is to be 
noted that the founders of the new system had not a free hand. 
It was impossible to appeal to public opinion at large because 
it could scarce^ be doubted that the mass of the nation viewed 
the Restoration with hostility. It was therefore necessary to 
rely upon the sympathies of selected interests and classes. 

The new settlement commanded in the first place the 
support of the commercial class the manufacturers, investors, 
and merchants whom the Industrial Revolution, 
already noticed, was calling into being. It was, classes sup- 

J n ! -11 porting the 

however, a small class as yet, and was charac- constitution. 
terised by timidity. It possessed no political 
enthusiasm and sold its support in return for the maintenance 
of peace and order. In the second place, the Constitution 
addressed an appeal to the men of ideas, the intellectual class 
whom Napoleon had tried to win by the Acte Additional, and 
who were to emerge as a political party under the name of 
the Doctrinaires. Among them at least enthusiasm might be 
expected. But these professorial, legal, journalistic, and pro- 
fessional persons have seldom failed to disappoint their political 
leaders. Easily influenced by ideas they too commonly show an 
insufficient reverence for fact ; they are prone to subtle dis- 
tinctions, and split upon minor differences. Plato may have 
been right in desiring that philosophers should be Kings ; he 
could hardly have recommended them in the capacity of 
electors. For reasons which will appear in the sequel, the 
government was unable to rely upon the support of the landed 
class, ever an element of stability in the state, inasmuch as 
its circumstances compel it to recognise, willingly or un- 
willingly, the rudimentary conceptions of public duty. 

Such, then, was the unstable basis upon which the Monarchy 
stood. Its instability was further increased by the frank 
admission that the foundations were experimental and liable 
in case of need to modifications. It is a truth too seldom 
realised that a Constitution requires to be closed when there 
is any question of alteration and repair. 

It remains to consider how far public opinion in this 
restricted sense was likely to acquire a real feeling of re- 
sponsibility. The absence of this quality is perhaps the most 

96 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

conspicuous feature in the domestic history of France during 
the nineteenth century, and it has been plausibly explained 
as due to the paralysing influence exerted by her 
ffir e a n ifeat/on. highly centralised institutions. To the Frenchman 
of the provinces, " the government " is repre- 
sented by the paternal administration exercised under the 
Prefet of the department, almost irresponsive, so far as 
appearances are concerned, to the fluctuating majorities of 
the Chamber. The result has been a lack of interest in 
struggles which seem to affect the voter only remotely, and 
a sense of freedom to indulge prejudices which can have no 
ulterior consequences for evil. The actual influence and 
interference of local officials in electoral battles has often 
contributed to the same result. Centralisation has had a 
further and still more disastrous consequence in assigning an 
altogether overwhelming influence to Paris. Whoever, by 
fair means or foul, could control the capital had little need to 
fear the power of local resistance. He had only to give the 
word of command to the hierarchy of officials, who were 
accustomed to take their orders from Paris. And the action 
of Paris was rendered all the more incalculable by the mis- 
chievous system, which the country had inherited from the 
tumults of the Revolution, of arming the middle classes as 
a " National Guard " for the security of property and 
order, without subjecting them to the reality of military 

Enough has been said to prove that the Restoration settle- 
ment was a gigantic experiment, dependent for its success 
upon strengthening influences of time. The experiment, 
moreover, was to be conducted in an atmosphere highly 
charged with dangerous elements. The Revolution had left 
bitterness, divisions, defeated ideals, and oppressed interests 
in plenty behind it. There were grievances, 
1> ud i es 1 individual and personal, that admitted of no 

unforgotten. compromise. Many new wounds had been in- 
flicted and many old ones reopened by the events 
of the Hundred Days. Since 1789, experiment after experi- 
ment had been tried upon the body politic, till France had 
been reduced to the nervousness of the malade imaginaire, 
ever on the watch for symptoms of mortal sickness, while 
eating, sleeping and prospering normally. Nothing is so 
remarkable in the speeches of the period as the gloomy fore- 
bodings which augur from a detail of some disputed measure 


the downfall of the Monarchy or the dissolution of the 
Revolutionary settlement. 

The political history of these fifteen years is the story of 
an attempted counter-Re volution, and is to be understood by 
following the policy of the returned emigres. 
Political prejudice has led historians to regard The attempted 
them as the bigoted foes of a popular constitu- Revolution. 
tion, and the devotees of absolute power. No view 
could well be more misleading. To the constitution as such 
they had no objection ; on the contrary, they showed them- 
selves exceedingly clever at working it in their own interests. 
These interests were purely selfish. They had no sort of 
wish to make of Louis XVIII another Roi Soleil, nor did they 
as a party desire to arm Charles X with the despotic powers 
of Ferdinand VII. On the contrary, their most uncom- 
promising spirits, the emigres pur sang, were in opposition to 
the Crown throughout. The French noble of the ancien 
regime had no long traditions of loyalty, and his last struggle 
did not belie his ancient reputation. 

The emigres returned to France to find themselves strangers 
in a country whose institutions had been completely trans- 
formed. They could render none of the services 
nor did they possess any of the capacities which p ^o\ the 
commanded place, power, or wealth under the Emigres. 
new regime. Pride restrained even the youngest 
of them from the attempt to acquire by their own efforts a 
new claim to their ancient influence. They expected and 
demanded nothing less than their former dignity and power 
by the time-honoured right of birth and title. 

No forecast of the forces with which the Restored Monarchy 
would have to reckon seems to have done justice either to 
their desire or to their power of embarrassing the government. 
Yet the latter was formidable enough. They were in no sense 
a stupid party. In an age of great literary activity the name 
of Chateaubriand, whose voice and whose pen were engaged 
on their side, is not the least conspicuous, and they produced 
party managers and journalists at least as dexterous as their 

Moreover, they had found powerful allies. Most con- 
spicuous of these was the Catholic Church. The Church, like 
the nobility, had lost much of its ancient authority during the 
eighteenth century either through the Revolution or at the 
hands of reforming rulers like Joseph II of Austria, and 


98 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

Napoleon. The latter, by his Concordat with the Pope, had 
restored to the Church its dignity, and to the clergy of every 
degree their offices, while he had deprived them 
The church of all authority over persons and affairs not 
Sntam. strictly ecclesiastical, and subjected them to the 
power of the State. By these means he had 
calculated on weakening their power. He had omitted im- 
portant factors from his calculation. Deprived of her semi- 
secular authority, the Church no longer attracted the courtiers, 
politicians, and diplomatists who figured as bishops under the 
old regime. Alike in her leaders and in her aims she became 
more strictly professional, looked for guidance to Rome and 
the religious orders, and put national considerations in the 
background. These tendencies gained impetus and inspira- 
tion when caught up in the Romantic movement, that return 
of the human spirit to sentiment and tradition expounded in 
the works of such men as De Maistre and Lamennais in re- 
action against the hard common-sense and dry reasoning of 
the eighteenth century. From this union was born the new 
international force of Ultramontanism, which throughout the 
century was to embarrass the governments of Catholic coun- 
tries by its open claim to put the interests of the Church before 
those of the nation, and was to end by modifying and in- 
spiring the official policy of Rome. The' task before its early 
representatives in France was to win back the hearts of the 
nation to the Church, and with that end to secure all those 
positions of advantage from which ideas can be formed and 

Far less conspicuous but scarcely less powerful support 

was afforded by a body of opinion which has scarcely received 

the attention it deserves. Not all the land- 

kJtere a st ded owners in France had emigrated, not all had 

lost their estates. Such men had little sympathy 

with the Revolution, but the Terror had effectively silenced 

their opinions. The seal was now removed from their lips, 

and they were scarcely less eager than the exiles to claim a 

greater measure of influence for the landed classes. 

A group of interests was thus formed having sufficient 
solidarity to exercise appreciable weight. Their foes were 
fatally divided. The Monarchy was obliged to rest for its support 
upon those who accepted alike the Revolution settlement and 
the Constitutional Charter. They were not, as we have seen, by 
any means a majority of the nation. Meantime the opponents 


of the government, so long as they remained in opposition, 
could calculate upon the assistance of everyone who, while 
devoted to the Revolutionary settlement, detested the Charter, 
whether he called himself Bonapartist or Republican. 

There was little difficulty in selecting the point of attack. 
The Charter itself had obligingly indicated the weak points 
of the structure by leaving certain matters of 
importance undefined or subject to arrangements 
to be made by the Chambers when they met. It 
was, in the first place, not distinctly laid down whether the 
Crown was competent to choose what ministers it pleased, with- 
out reference to their opinions, or bound to select them from 
the party which possessed a majority in the Lower Chamber. 
If the latter doctrine could be maintained, the malcontents 
only needed to secure a majority to be able to dictate terms. 
Secondly, the Electoral Law, by which the franchise and the 
method of election was determined, formed no part of the Con- 
stitution itself. There was nothing therefore to prevent its being 
so modified and adjusted as to produce a majority of the re- 
quired complexion. Thirdly, no system of censorship for the 
Press was prescribed, and this omission evidently left the door 
open to the emigres to agitate for regulations silencing opposite 
opinions, or giving the freest expression to their own, as 
occasion might require. The power of the press in an elec- 
torate of the kind established by the Charter needs no explana- 
tion. Lastly, there was nothing to prevent attempts to alter 
the regulations which the Concordat had empowered the 
State to make for the Church. An increased influence for the 
religious orders, and the practical control of the centralised 
system of education by the Church were innovations which 
would win clerical support and do much to cripple opponents. 

Scarcely had Louis XVIII been re-seated on his throne 
when the combination of these forces burst forth in unexpected 
activity and strength. In the south of France, especially at 
Nismes and Toulouse, riot and massacre blazed out in the 
name of royalism and religion in the excesses of the so-called 
" White Terror." It was partly the influence of 
these manifestations in the south and the presence JntrouSu* 
of the allied armies in the north, but quite as 
much the unmuzzling of opinions hitherto repressed, that sent 
up from the elections a majority of a wholly unexpected 
character. The King and his ministers found themselves 
face to face with a body of men who called themselves 

100 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

Ultra-Royalists, but whose royalism contained no element of 
personal or dynastic loyalty, serving only as a thin veneer to 
cover their extreme opinions. It was indeed as Louis called 
it a " Chambre Inirouvable" a find most unlocked for, and 
well-nigh as unwelcome as unexpected. 

Few could have regretted the retirement of Napoleon's 
detestable Police Minister, Fouche, but it was a bad sign when 
it was found impossible for Talleyrand to co-operate with 
the victorious party. No ministry could possibly hold its 
ground which was not frankly Royalist in sentiment. 

Happily the man was found whose character, career, and 
opinions marked him out to essay the difficult task. The 
Duke of Richelieu was uncompromised by any connection 
with the Revolution, having left France not long after the 
first outbreaks. He was equally unconnected with the 
emigres, having taken service under Alexander, 
Richeueu f displaying exceptional capacity as an adminis- 
trator at Odessa. He returned without bitter- 
ness or grudge to serve his country. One of his utterances 
to the Chamber deserves quotation for the light it throws 
both upon his opinions and his difficulties. " I do not under- 
stand your passions, your relentless hatreds. I pass every 
day by the house which belonged to my ancestors. I see their 
property in other hands and I behold in museums the treasures 
which belonged to them. It is a sad sight, but it does not 
rouse in me feelings either of despair or revenge. You appear 
to me sometimes to be out of your minds, all of you who have 
remained in France." He undertook office as a moderate 
Royalist loyal to the Revolution settlement. 

The first conflict of the Ministry with the majority took 
place over the pains and penalties to be inflicted for com- 
plicity in the Hundred Days, over the securities 
Beyengefirt to be taken against new disturbances, and over 
Opposition. 6 the Amnesty Bill, which was intended to close 
the entire incident. The fines and imprisonments 
proposed as securities against sedition were scouted as 
inadequate. Fouche's list of persons to be proscribed failed to 
satisfy the passions of revenge aroused by the eloquence of 
Chateaubriand. The escape of many of the intended victims 
called down denunciations upon a government who had 
notoriously connived at this solution of their difficulties. 
Neither the King nor his ministers dared, in face of this clamour 
and (it must be regretfully added) of the general expectation in 


Europe, to refuse their sanction to the execution of the gallant 
Marshal Ney. Indeed, on logical grounds, it was difficult to 
defend him. His offence was undeniable. He had taken 
service under the Bourbon government and had betrayed it 
to Napoleon. His conduct had been that of a soldier of 
fortune and not that of an honourable patriot. But it was 
for all that an unwise decision to hold the ignorant impulsive 
soldier responsible to a code of duty, which neither he, nor 
indeed many of those who condemned him, recognised. 

Richelieu was fully determined to make no more martyrs. 
By constant appeals to the royal wishes, the Amnesty Bill 
was forced through, in the teeth of extravagant amendments, 
by a bare majority of nine. Even so the government had 
been forced to abandon to the penalty of exile " the regicides," 
those members of the Convention who had voted for Louis 
XVI's death. In the midst of all these distractions, hampered 
in his dealings with the Allies by the apparent insecurity of 
his government, discredited in the Chamber by his inevitable 
concessions, Richelieu had negotiated the Second Treaty of 

Matters of immediate necessity being now disposed of, the 
stage was clear for the development of the constructive 
designs of the opposition. The first move was a bold attempt 
to secure in all future Chambers a majority favourable to 
their views. The Charter had limited the franchise to those 
paying 300 francs in direct taxation, and the 
government now brought in a bill to define the viiieie's amend- 

f -i ,. TT-IHI i i. A. j_ ment to the 

process of election. Villele who, if not a states- Electoral Law. 
man, was the most adroit politician in the ranks 
of the opposition, seized on the opportunity to move an amend- 
ment. By his proposal, the qualification for a vote was to be 
reduced to 50 francs paid in direct taxation, a measure which 
would have enfranchised two million country voters. The 
qualification for a deputy (or member of the Chamber) was 
to stand at 1000 francs. Election was to be the result of 
two distinct stages. The voters of each arrondissement were 
to choose representatives, by whom, in conjunction with the 
fifty largest landholders in the department, the deputies to 
sit for the department were to be elected. The amendment 
aimed at securing large constituencies open to local influence, 
a second process of election giving a preponderance to the 
views of the more prominent people who were certain to 
be chosen by the arrondissement, and a vote at both stages 

102 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

of the election for men of considerable property. The 
elections were to take place every five years, thus giving a 
victorious party an extended spell of power. It was a bold 
attempt to place authority in the hands of the local gentry, 
and it is a fact worth remarking that within twenty years of 
the Revolution such a measure should only have been defeated 
by the veto of the Peers. 

Another and an equally insidious proposal was foiled 

by the same agency. Loud demands were made in the 

name of liberty and constitutionalism that the 

The ultras and ministers should be chosen bv the King from the 

the position or ... , i ANI i i i_8 A ' AI. A 

ministers. majority in the Chamber, and a bill to that 
effect was carried, which would have put the 
reactionary party in a position to claim the assistance of the 
Crown in forcing their progiamme upon the Peers. 

These proposals, however extreme, were legitimate and 
within the terms of the Charter. The majority now advanced a 
step further, and defied the Charter itself. Taking 
Church advantage of a suggestion put forward by the 

the Budget government proposal for making an increased 
allowance to the Church, they not only recom 
mended an annual grant of 42 millions of francs, but 
boldly demanded the restoration of confiscated ecclesiastical 
property. But the final collision occurred over the Budget. 
Richelieu proposed to wipe out the National Debt from 1813 
onwards by a sale of the State forests, formerly Church 
property. An amendment was promptly presented to the 
Chamber deprecating the sale of the forests and proffering to 
the creditors shares in the Funds having less than two-thirds 
their nominal value. A drawn battle was terminated by an 

The proposed declaration of partial bankruptcy, for the 
amendment amounted to that, was a matter of immediate 
concern to Europe, and remonstrances were made through 
Wellington. Richelieu indignantly repelled such interference. 
But a tumult which took place at Grenoble, greatly exag- 
gerated by Donnadieu, the officer who suppressed it, forced 
his hand. He had been persistently urging the removal of 
the army of occupation, and the outbreak seemed to the 
Allies to confirm their suspicions that France was 
not y^ to be trusted. Yielding to the influence 
of Decazes and of the King Richelieu declared the 
recalcitrant Chamber dissolved after an existence of scarcely 


a year (September. 1816). The first stage of the struggle was 
now over and its main issues were clearly defined. 

The new Chamber met in October, 1816. Several influences 
had been at work to change its character. Among these were 
a modification of the electoral law, reducing the number of 
deputies while raising the qualifying age, and a vigorous if 
somewhat one-sided application of press censorship 
by Decazes. Most important of all, however, was 
the growing alarm of the commercial classes at the 
outspoken aims of the emigres and their friends. The govern- 
ment had a working majority consisting of the moderate 
Royalists who accepted the constitution and the group of 
Constitutionalists who accepted the monarchy, known as the 
" Doctrinaires." But a new feature of some importance now 
made its appearance in a knot of twelve deputies styling 
themselves the " Independent Left," to whom neither the 
monarchy nor the Constitution were of primary importance. 

The ministry succeeded at length in defining the Electoral 
Law on lines suggested by Decazes. The 300 francs basis 
was retained to qualify for a vote, and that 
of 1000 francs for the position of deputy, the gSSSd? 1 Law 
qualifying age for the latter being fixed at 40 
years. An arrangement was made by which one-fifth of the 
Chamber, selected by ballot, should retire annually, new 
deputies being elected in their places. But the position of 
Richelieu was by no means secure. Decazes had appealed 
before the election for the assistance of all constitutional 
royalists " whether they supported the Charter because of 
the King or the King because of the Charter." It was just 
this difference of aim which weakened a government con- 
fronted with the compact minority of Ultras, and hampered 
by the uncertain action of the Independent Left. 

An attempt to establish a settled principle of censorship 
broke down before a combination between the Ultras and the 
Left, against which the Doctrinaires, whose 
principles were affronted by the proposal, failed Difficulties and 

y , ~ P -!/ resignation of 

to support the ministry. A scheme for modify- iiicheiieu. 
ing the Concordat proved impossible in face of 
the unanimity of the Left and the Doctrinaires. Clearly the 
new elements in the Chamber had not made for stability, 
while on the other side the Count of Artois was discovered to 
have approached the Allies urging them to use their influence 
with the King to secure a ministry of more pronounced 

104 THU CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

Royalist opinion. In spite of Louis' support of his advisers, 
which took the form of a sharp censure of Artois and his 
dismissal from the command of the National Guard, in spite 
of Richelieu's own success at Aix-la-Chapelle in securing the 
evacuation of France by the Allies, he could no longer feel 
that he commanded a sufficient backing in the Chamber. 
The system of allied groups had failed. He arrived at the 
deliberate conclusion that he must endeavour to gain over 
the more moderate of his Royalist opponents, and so to 
modify the electoral law as to get rid of the Left and reduce 
the power of the Doctrinaire party, upon whose steady and 
consistent support he was unable any longer to depend. 
Villele, conscious that his day was approaching, refused to 
treat, and Richelieu resigned (1818). 

The second phase of the struggle was now over, and a 
Constitutionalist ministry replaced the moderate Royalists. 
Its guiding spirit was Louis XVIII's favourite 
DeSS? istry ' adviser, Decazes, though he was not yet President 
of the Council. Pledged to the support of the 
existing Electoral Law the government succeeded in silencing a 
resolution in the contrary sense, passed in the Upper Chamber, 
by the creation of new peers. More liberal in tendency than 
their predecessors they carried enactments leaving the press 
free of censorship and directing that all prosecutions of news- 
papers should take place before the ordinary courts with the 
aid of a jury. They failed to conciliate the Left while goading 
the Ultras to fury. The latter now adopted new electoral 
tactics, voting even for men of Republican views rather than 
the government candidates. The result was a great loss of 
strength for the ministry in the partial elections of 1819. 
Among the new deputies was the ex-Abbe Gregoire, a regicide 
and a man of violent and outspoken opinions. His election 
was nullified amid wranglings which its importance did not 
justify, and both Decazes himself and the King were convinced 
that the Electoral Law must be modified if the Chamber was 
to be protected from a possible majority of the Left, hostile 
to the Constitutional monarchy itself. 

But while the proposals of the government were yet being 
debated, a horrible crime closed the third phase of the strife 
and turned the current of events into the channels it was 
never to leave till the final catastrophe of the monarchy. 

The Duke of Berri, upon whose recent marriage the dynasty 
pinned their hopes of an heir, was stabbed as he left the opera 


by a fanatical Bonapartist saddler, named Louvel. A storm 

of indignation broke out against all who had professed even 

the mildest Liberal views, and Louis was not 

able to refuse to dismiss Decazes, to whose 

policy the Ultras pointed as the fatal influence 

which had let loose the revolutionary spirit of which the 

crime was the embodiment. 

Richelieu was the only man who could hope to keep the 
forces of reaction within the bounds of moderation, and he 
only with the good-will of the Ultras. He took 
office with great reluctance, after obtaining Richelieu's 

p it /-* i c i i e ' second 

from the Count of Artois an assurance of active ministry. 
assistance. " I will be," said he, " the first of your 
soldiers." The immediate need was a change in the Electoral 
Law which would secure an electorate favourable to the new 
combination. The qualification of 300 francs in direct taxa- 
tion was retained, but the process of election was to consist 
of two distinct stages. By the first, each arrondissement was 
to choose as many names as there were seats for the depart- 
ment, and by the second the actual deputies were to be 
selected from this list by a fifth of the electors composed of 
those who paid the highest taxes (1820). The new Chamber 
elected under these provisions showed a large majority devoted 
to the landed interest. Villele now consented to serve under 
Richelieu, but both the Left and the Doctrinaires were in 
decided opposition, and the extreme wing of the Ultras was 
irreconcilable. The spirits of these last were raised by the 
birth of a posthumous son, afterwards the Count of Chambord, 
to the late Duke of Berri, and they had now found a new 
weapon of attack. Richelieu's influence at Troppau and at 
Laibach had not been, in their eyes, sufficiently exerted 
on the side of repression to maintain the credit of France. 
Further successes at the annual partial re-election encouraged 
them to draw up an address to the King demanding a spirited 
foreign policy, a protective corn-law and the fulfilment of 
the obligations of the Charter. The vagueness of the con- 
cluding request succeeded, as it was intended to do, in 
capturing the votes of the other opposition groups. Defeated 
and with a melting majority Richelieu sought the promised 
assistance of the Count of Artois to moderate the extreme 
faction. It was not forthcoming. " What would you ? " 
said Louis XVIII. " He conspired against Louis XVI, he 
conspired against me, he will end by conspiring against 

106 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

himself." Richelieu's attempt had failed. The understand- 
ing between the two wings of the Royalists, which might have 
succeeded in 1816, had proved impossible, and his electoral 
law of 1820 had entrenched the Ultras behind defences which 
long resisted the growing dissatisfaction of the country. 
They had now at last captured the government as well as the 
Chamber. It remained to see how they would use their 
newly won power (1821). 

The victors proclaimed as their guiding principle the 
" Union of Throne and Altar." Supported by their loyalty 
the monarchy was to defend and foster the work 
of tne Church, through whose efforts France was 
to be regenerated. Behind these phrases was 
the settled determination to reconquer the lost influence of 
their class. To English ears the attempt sounds utterly 
fantastic and impracticable. Yet there were elements of 
strength which should not be left out of account the influence 
of a united minority, a -monopoly of political power, a 
highly centralised administrative machine, the organised 
propagandist activity of the Church, and the nervous dread 
of avenging Europe, which paralysed armed resistance. And 
at the head of the party stood a leader wiser and more dexterous 
than his followers, a typical man of expedients, the Count of 
Villele. His whole policy is thus outlined in his own words : 
" To know where it is best to go, without ever taking a wrong 
turning, to make a step towards the goal on every possible 
occasion, never to get into a position from which it is necessary 
to retreat." 

Very cautiously the new minister went to work. His 
first care was to distract public attention from his own 
ulterior designs, by keeping the fears of revolu- 
vmiie. f tionary violence, which Louvel had aroused, 

permanently awake. He was for ever discovering 
and punishing conspiracy. He next proceeded to silence the 
Press. Nothing was to be published without previous sanction, 
and offences were to be judged without the aid of a jury. A 
protective law, directed against foreign imports in the interests 
of French agriculture and manufactures, gave great satis- 
faction among the classes who exercised the franchise. The 
President of the Council of the University was given complete 
authority over the teachers and the subjects of instruction in 
all secondary schools, and Bishop Frayssinous was appointed 
to the office. The prosperity of the country seemed to 


promise a period of repose in which these measures would 
have time to bear fruit. 

In 1822 a rift appeared in the party which was to react 
fatally upon its fortunes. The romantic and enthusiastic 
nature of Chateaubriand had been fired with the 
idea of seeking a new source of strength for the chSaubrSnd. 
Restoration in military glory. He failed to 
perceive with the more cautious Villele that, quite apart 
from the risks incurred, no success could be hoped for 
that would not challenge contemptuous comparison with 
the titanic achievements of the Napoleonic era. Held within 
bounds by his chief he successfully arranged at Verona for 
the French intervention in Spain. But the further intrigues 
of his agents at Madrid and his own talk of the Rhine frontier 
alarmed Villele and resulted in his dismissal. 

In 1824, a dissolution took place. A new Chamber with 
an opposition so small as dangerously to threaten the una- 
nimity of the majority was elected, and passed 
an act assuring to itself a period of power for Proposed com- 

-rrMivi ,, i i j Ji pensation of 

seven years. Villele thereupon proceeded to the the emigres. 
difficult task of compensating the emigres for the 
confiscation of their property, a measure which was intended 
to set at rest the fears of disturbance entertained by all those 
who had profited by the confiscations. French finances were 
in a flourishing state. It was, under the circumstances, a 
perfectly fair proposal to reduce the rate of interest from 
5 to 4 per cent. With the money thus saved it was intended 
to pay the interest 011 a new loan to be expended in com- 
pensation to all landholders displaced by the Revolution. 

At this point, the Ministry experienced an unexpected 
check. The Peers, largely composed of ex-officials of the 
Empire, supported by Chateaubriand and his malcontent 
faction, threw out the proposed alteration in the rate of 
interest. The same fate befell a measure authorising the 
Crown to permit at discretion the establishment of convents 
of nuns, which was intended to pave the way for the complete 
restoration of the religious orders. The cautious Villele had 
to all appearances been going too fast. 

The explanation was not in reality so simple. The President 
of the Council was face to face with a dilemma. To persevere 
did indeed mean the steady growth of opposition among all 
the moderate and Liberal elements in the country, but to 
slacken the pace was to permit his own followers to pass over 

108 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

to the violent faction which spoke through the mouth of 

The death of Louis XVIII (Sept., 1824) determined his 
choice, removing as it did one restraining influence ; for it is 
a most perverse misreading of history which 
cSsx treats the King as half an accomplice of the 
factious opposition which checkmated the best 
efforts of his ministers. His brother, the Count of Artois, now 
succeeded as Charles X, to experience all the difficulties which 
his own ill-considered encouragement of reaction had been 
largely instrumental in creating. The ill-conditioned malicious 
youth of the early days of the Revolution, the exile who had 
made himself the mouthpiece of the fiercest denunciations of the 
emigres, was not indeed superficially recognisable in the person 
of the new King. Under the influence of a devotion to the forms 
of his faith he had acquired a certain dignity of person and 
character. But he was still without knowledge of men or 
insight into the trend of events. Thus he lacked judgment, 
the quality most necessary at the crisis when he ascended the 
throne. He was no enemy of the Constitution as such, though 
a firm believer in his indefeasible rights, having stated that 
he would rather chop wood than be a King on the English 
pattern. He was only so far the foe of the existing arrange- 
ments that he intended to restore as much of the lost dignity 
and power of the Church as was possible. 

Under this new influence Villele decided to press on. The 
emigres were compensated, not by a lump sum as originally 
suggested, but by an annual payment (as a kind of interest 
upon what the State had appropriated) obtained by the 
reduction of the rate of interest upon the Debt. The Crown 
acquired the right to sanction new religious houses ; the 
Jesuits were authorised to return. As though to advertise in 
the plainest terms what was being done, the coronation at 
Rheims was conducted with all the ancient ritual and ceremony. 

But discontent was steadily growing. A new and more 

stringent Press law was rejected by the Peers, the National 

Guard broke into disorderly cries at a review 

combination of and were disbanded, the extremists under Chateau - 

Chateaubriana i j j -i , i < TVT 

and the Left. bnand, encouraged by the news or Navarmo, were 
calling out for intervention in Greece. Villele 
made one more attempt to set his house in order. The peers 
were swamped by new creations, and the Chamber was dis- 
solved in the hope of securing a more unanimous majority. 


When the deputies assembled he found himself helpless in the 
presence of the increased voting power both of the malcontent 
Ultras and the Left. The King accordingly called upon the 
Vicomte de Martignac to form a ministry (1828). 

Martignac was no Liberal. He had been a conspicuous 
member of Villele's party and had supported some of his most 
unpopular measures. But the word had been 
given that conciliation was to be attempted, and 
Martignac possessed the conciliatory manner. 
He at once began to lighten the ship. The Doctrinaire pro- 
fessors were recalled to the posts they had lost during the 
clerical domination, and caressed. Frayssinous was snubbed. 
The unauthorised seminaries of the clergy were attacked. A 
new law removed the more stringent of the press regulations. 
The violent Royalists were furious. The Left confidently 
awaited another change in the Electoral Law, which would 
carry them back to the Chamber with a majority and an 
undeniable claim to form a ministry. Martignac disappointed 
them. In place of such a bill he introduced a measure for 
local self-government. His intentions were now clear. 
Nothing in the new system was to be abandoned ; only 
irregular encroachments were to be thrown to the wolves. 
The two aggrieved factions repeated their unnatural com- 
bination, this time to defeat the Budget, and Martignac 
followed Villele into retirement (1829). 

Charles X was left with an apparent choice between the 
Ultras and the Left. In reality he was now in the hands of fate. 
No ministry from the Left could at this stage be trusted not to 
embark upon reprisals, which would cripple the Church for 
ever, and might even modify the Constitution and limit the 
power of the Crown. As to the consequences of 
resistance the King was afflicted with judicial blind- 
ness. " It is time," he said, " to call a halt." The 
Prince of Polignac, an emigre, was commissioned to form a 
ministry in which were included a Vendean general and an 
agent of the " White Terror." Polignac went forward with 
the sublime confidence of a Crusader. He treated the Chamber 
with a strong dose of Chateaubriand's prescription, a spirited 
foreign policy. Vague schemes were outlined of vigorous action 
in Europe, and it was announced that the Dey of Algiers would 
be chastised for his refusal to give satisfaction for the injuries 
inflicted by his piratical subjects. The Chamber merely drew 
up an address to the King asking [for the dismissal oi the 

110 THE CONCERT OF EUROPE, 1814-1830 

ministers. He replied with a dissolution. The elections sent 
back a new Chamber in which the majority against the 
government was increased by 53. 

Charles now suffered himself to be persuaded by Polignac 

that Article 14 of the Charter, which permitted the King to 

issue ordinances for the safety of the realm, con- 

The Ordinances. , , , , . -, i j , 

templated just such a case as had arisen. Acting 
upon this theory he put his signature to four such ordinances, 
the first dissolving the Chamber before its assembly, the second 
prescribing a new electoral law, the third imposing fresh restric- 
tions upon the press, while the fourth and last fixed the new 
elections for September (July 25, 1830). 

The situation had now developed to a point at which 
force of some kind must inevitably come into play, and the 
force which brought on the unexpected denouement was that 
wielded by the mob of Paris. By the next evening the appeal 
of the suppressed journalists to the workmen and students 
had brought crowds into the street ; another 
Revolution. day, and Republican agitators were busily organis- 
ing resistance ; on the 28th, the mob was in 
collision with Marmont's troops in the narrow winding streets, 
and a Provisional government under Lafayette had established 
itself at the Hotel de Ville. Meanwhile, such of the deputies of 
the dissolved Chamber as had reached Paris were taking a line 
of their own. The majority had no wish to play into the hands 
of the Republicans, and forwarded a resolution to the King 
through Marmont assuring him of their support in return for 
a withdrawal of the Ordinances. By the evening of the 29th, 
the mob had mastered the troops, and occupied the Louvre 
and the Tuileries. Before night, the military had evacuated 
Paris. The Chamber was now in a difficult position. No answer 
had been returned by the King from St. Cloud. The deputies 
could not but recognise that the revolutionists had won the 
day, and issued a proclamation accepting the situation ; yet 
they still hoped to stave off a republic. The active exertions 
of a group of Liberal plotters headed by the banker Laffitte 
were all this while preparing a solution of the dilemma. Their 
plan was to transfer the Crown to Louis Philippe, Duke of 
Orleans, son of the Philippe Egalite who had figured in the 
Revolution, a prince who had taken no pains to conceal his 
Liberal opinions. 

Meantime, nothing had been able to convince Charles X 
of the seriousness of the situation. The Duke of Mortemart, 


reaching St. Cloud late on the 28th to urge conciliation, was 
not received till the next morning, and even then could only 
prevail on the King to send a verbal message to the Chamber. 
Something more definite was required to secure the reversal 
of the recognition already given to the fait accompli in Paris. 
The messengers therefore returned to St. Cloud, but arrived 
too late for an audience, and when next day Mortemart, after 
endless mischances and misdirections, reached the capital 
with the King's signature to his submission, the decisive step 
had been taken. The Chamber had invited the Duke of Orleans 
to assume the Lieutenant-Generalcy of the Kingdom. The 
same evening, the Duke somewhat reluctantly assented and 
made his way to Paris. 

The Provisional government at the Hotel de Ville had still 
to be reckoned with. Neither these leaders nor the mob had 
begun the outbreak to make Louis Philippe King. 
But they were taken by surprise, and knew that HoSide vaie. 
they could count upon little support in the 
provinces and upon the certain hostility of Europe. They 
were therefore obliged to recognise the fait accompli. An 
edifying ceremony was enacted on July 31, when Louis 
Philippe, wearing the national colours, proceeded to the 
Hotel de Ville, accompanied by the members of the Chamber, 
and was there embraced at one of the windows by the veteran 
revolutionist Lafayette, thus receiving in the presence of the 
mob the final seal of the people's approval. 

Charles X still struggled against the inevitable. He 
abdicated in favour of the Count of Chambord, and acknow- 
ledged Louis Philippe Lieutenant-General. He 
only received a civil answer and the advice to 
withdraw from the vicinity of Paris, a suggestion 
which was supported by a movement of the National Guard 
in his direction. Slowly and with dignity the fallen King 
retreated across France and embarked at Cherbourg. 

The Revolution which hurled him from power inaugurated 
a new era. 


COURTS, 1830-1848. 



THOSE who would understand the history of the July monarchy 
must never forget the little comedy enacted at the Hotel de 
Ville ; for beneath all its nai've absurdity may 
be discovered the key to the contradictions and 
surprises of the next eighteen years. On the one 
side stood the deputies of the Chamber, drawn 
from a small and select class, representatives of the landed 
and commercial interests. These men had taken their stand 
against Charles X with no idea of overthrowing his throne, 
but with the sole purpose of driving from his counsels a 
ministry offensive to the majority. They had been simple 
enough to suppose that the matter could be thrashed out 
within their own charmed circle. Yet as a political party 
they possessed one element of strength : they knew what 
they wanted. On the other side stood Lafayette and the 
Republican chiefs of the Provisional government, with the 
Paris mob behind them. These were the real conquerors of 
Charles X. Among them there existed a singular unanimity 
on two points a rooted distrust of the governing classes, and 
a vague impatience of the repressive control which had been 
exercised over France by Europe. Yet their unexpected 
victory found them destitute of guiding purpose. Their 
leaders had appealed, not unsuccessfully, to the fine abstract 
generalities and to the glories of the Revolution. But the 
vain pedantic Lafayette and his colleagues had no constructive 
policy. The Revolution was a thing of the past, its memories 

114 THE ENTENTE COKDIALE, 1830-1848 

and sentiments were powerful, but its conditions could not be 
recreated. The popular leaders lacked the power to appre- 
hend and to organise the practical social grievances which 
had brought the workmen of Paris into the streets at the 
sound of the old battle-cries. France had not spoken, and 
there could scarcely be any doubt that Europe would claim 
to speak nor any possibility of mistaking what would be her 
verdict. " You are wrong in thanking us," said Cavaignac to 
one of the deputies. " We are not ready to resist you." 

Between the two opposite bodies of opinion stood the Duke 
of Orleans, a plain commonplace bourgeois figure, grotesquely 

decorated with a tricolour sash. Very acceptable 
Orleans!* 6 f ^ ^ ne Chamber, for was not he a Bourbon prince, 

and therefore a possible King whose election 
would ensure the existence of the Constitution ; as well 
as a bourgeois by taste and feeling, never likely to be tempted 
by theories of Divine Right or fascinated by the glamour of 
the Catholic Church ? Not unacceptable to the opposing 
party, who, for the moment, asked nothing more tangible 
than concessions to sentiment. Here was the son of a revo- 
lutionist, one who had fought at Jemappes, a man of the 
people, who had earned his own bread in humble callings, who 
had never concealed his divergence from the views of the 
Court. And was not the tricolour a guarantee that France 
had thrown off a humiliating tutelage and would be feared 
and respected as in the great days ? After all the name 
of King lost half of its sinister associations when borne by a 
man of such genial, friendly, democratic manners, whose 
hand was ready to grasp that of any honest Frenchman. It 
was thus that on Aug. 7, 1830, Louis Philippe was declared 
by the Chambers to be ''King of the French." 

Yet this unanimity was more apparent than real. The 
King had bought his Crown by a hard bargain, or rather by 

two inconsistent bargains, none the less binding 
Obligations of because they were tacitly implied rather than 

the July , v, . , J , *, 

Monarchy. expressed, lo the Chambers he stood as the 
guarantee of the " just mean," the rule of the 
middle classes nicely balanced between the excesses of auto- 
cracy on the one side and of republicanism on the other. To 
the Republicans and their working-class supporters he was 
the symbol of new hopes and expanding liberties, un- 
covenanted indeed by any Charter, but implied by the sub- 
mission of their leaders. To the Chambers again he was the 


guarantee of peace, standing between suspicious Europe and 
the right of France to determine her own destiny. To the 
people at large the acceptance of the tricolour seemed to carry 
with it the pledge of a spirited and glorious foreign policy. 

It may be doubted whether these contradictions could ever 
have been reconciled. At least Louis Philippe was not ill- 
equipped for the task which lay before him. He 
was fifty-seven years old and had seen the world SuS Philippe. 
and men in many aspects. He had been soldier 
of the Revolution, member of the Jacobins' Club ; he had 
been reduced in his exile in Switzerland to teach mathematics 
for a living. He had dabbled in Spanish politics not without 
a hope of supplanting Ferdinand VII ; he had visited America ; 
he had represented his father-in-law, the King of Naples, in 
London in 1814. where he had mixed with all the leading 
statesmen of the time ; he had managed, under the Restora- 
tion government, to secure the credit for Liberal views without 
quarrelling with the Court or attaching himself to any party. 
Thus the whole tendency of his mind was diplomatic, his 
instinct to follow the line of least resistance. Cautious before 
all things, even to meanness, he sacrificed to no principles 
nor accepted any risks. He was a born temporiser, and his 
easy popular manner helped him to gain time and to mediate 
between conflicting interests. But he never possessed the 
resolution or the insight to do more than guide the play of 
the forces around him. He failed for lack of boldness at the 
crisis of his fortunes. 

So conservative a revolution needed but little constitution- 
making. The Charter underwent some little revision at the 
hands of the existing Chambers without any fresh 
mandate from the electors. It was now understood Settlement. 
to have been accepted by the King as a summary 
of the national will, and not granted by his good favour. 
The power of issuing Ordinances was to be admissible only in 
such cases as did not involve suspension or hindrance of the 
ordinary law, the censorship was abolished and press cases 
were to be tried by jury. The aspirations of the Church were 
plainly discouraged. The old declaration in favour of 
Catholicism was watered down into the statement that " the 
Catholic faith is that professed by the majority of Frenchmen," 
while secondary education was placed under rigid state control. 
To put some check upon the aristocratic and landed interest, 
the qualification for the franchise was reduced from 300 francs 

116 THE ENTENTE COKDIALE, 1830-1848 

in direct taxation to 200 francs, while the power of the new 
bourgeois majority was extended by giving the Chamber an 
initiative in legislation, and by enacting that seats in the 
Chamber of Peers should cease to be hereditary and that the 
members should be appointed for life only. As a guarantee 
of these arrangements, a step was taken fraught with dangerous 
consequences. This was the re-establishment of the ill- 
omened National Guard, consisting of all citizens who could 
afford to buy uniforms, to which was now granted the privilege 
of electing its own officers. This force was to prove as often 
a ready-made engine of revolution as a guarantee of order. It 
impeded at best the action of the regular troops, while the 
houses of its members became the convenient resort of any 
mob in search of weapons. 

The intention of those who revised the Charter is laid bare 
in Guizot's words : " The King will respect our rights, for it 
is from us that he will hold his own." He was 
andthe p U (!w??3. to f> e the obedient servant of a Parliamentary 
majority. But whether as servant or master he 
had work to do, and it was his hand that guided the country 
through the early difficulties which beset the new govern- 
ment. The first task was to secure the recognition of the 
Powers, who were already drawing nervously together. Even 
in England, serious politicians talked of taking action. But 
the new Bang's emissaries soon convinced all but the Czar 
that in Louis Philippe they had to deal with a ruler who could 
be counted upon to restrain the forces they feared, and in six 
months' time even Nicholas had grudgingly followed the 
general example of recognition, on condition that the King 
should respect the engagements of the Treaties of Paris. 

The hesitating confidence of Europe and Louis Philippe's 
own adroitness was to be severely tested. On the 25th of 
September the long-continued dissensions which had been 
troubling the Netherlands culminated in a revolutionary 
outbreak at Brussels. These dissensions were the outcome 
of the arrangements effected at the Congress of Vienna under 
which the Dutch and the Austrian Netherlands had been 
constituted into a single kingdom. 

It was at the end of the year 1813 that the Dutch had 

driven out the French garrisons and the French 

HoiSnS. 1 ' f government established by Napoleon. Two weeks 

later the exiled Prince of Orange had landed amid 

immense enthusiasm, and had been invited to undertake the 


sovereignty as William I. He had all the characteristics calcu- 
lated to win the hearts of his people. Genial and affable, simple 
in his tastes, a hard worker with considerable knowledge of 
commercial matters, he had the inestimable advantage of 
personal sympathy with and understanding of all things 
Dutch. He possessed besides some of the qualities of a King. 
Exile had trained and widened practical abilities of a high 
order, and he had been a careful student of the history and 
institutions of his country. He was an untiring administrator, 
with a marvellous capacity for detail. His faults were the faults 
of a business man an exaggerated confidence in the effective- 
ness of organisation and of system, a failure to make allowance 
in his calculations for sentiment and for human nature. 

The Napoleonic occupation had long since sapped the 
attachment of the nation to the ancient and elaborate consti- 
tution with all its local exceptions and privileges. 
There was a general sense of the need for re- constitution. 
constituting Holland on the lines of a modern 
state. This work was effected by a Fundamental Law. called 
the Grond-wet, declaring the Crown hereditary in the House 
of Orange and vesting the control of the executive, of 
finance and of the armed forces of the State in the King. 
Provincial assemblies were responsible for local government, 
and these nominated the 55 members of a central States- 
General possessed of the rights of initiating and rejecting 
legislation and of sanctioning all new expenditure, but not 
competent to hold the ministry responsible to themselves. 
It was to this newly constituted State that the allies pro- 
posed to assign the Austrian Netherlands, as conquered terri- 
tory lying at their disposal, since Austria evinced no desire 
to re-enter into so troublesome a heritage. In June, 1814, 
the proposal, with eight articles attached defining the con- 
ditions, was submitted to William and by him accepted. 
These articles stipulated for a corporate union between the 
two countries, for complete equality of creeds, 
for equal commercial rights and opportunities The Kingdom 

i , T , 1 -, . TV . , r V . of the Nether- 

both at home and in the Dutch colonies, for lands. 
the representation of Belgium in the States- 
General, for a common responsibility for the debt of both 
countries and the upkeep of the Belgian frontier fortresses, 
while the maintenance of the sea dykes was declared 
to be a matter of local concern. While these matters were 
still under discussion with the representatives of Belgium 

118 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

the sudden peril of Napoleon's return from Elba drove the two 
hesitating nations into each other's arms. William, with 
general approval, proclaimed himself King of the Netherlands, 
and contingents from both peoples served side by side at 
Waterloo under the command of the King's son, the Prince of 

Nevertheless the difficulties in the way of union were real 
though not insuperable. The thinly-veiled annexation of the 
southern provinces by the northern did nothing 
Contrast be- to weaken a certain contempt with which the 
an?Bdgians. Dutch, proud of their long history of independ- 
ence, viewed their neighbours, while the larger 
population of Belgium, nearly three and a half millions as com- 
pared to two millions, seemed to entitle the former possessions 
of Austria to a decisive voice in determining their destinies. 
Moreover, though the Belgian population was not racially 
homogeneous (consisting of Flemings in the western provinces, 
akin to the Dutch, and of Walloons in the Eastern districts, 
of Celtic extraction), French influence and the French language 
had done much to harmonise their institutions and their 
sympathies. The Spanish oppression of the sixteenth century 
had drawn a sharp line of religious division between the two 
countries. The successful subjugation of the southern 
provinces by Philip II had left them devotedly Catholic, and 
under the control of clerical influence, while the independent 
Dutch of the north had been carried by force of reaction into 
a Calvinism of the most uncompromising type. Nor were 
the social or industrial characteristics of the two peoples 
similar. The power of the nobility in Holland had long ceased 
to be a political force ; in Belgium it enjoyed a decided pre- 
ponderance. The merchants and ship-owners of the north 
were drawn by no natural affinities towards the industrial 
interests of the south, where farming, manufactures, and mining, 
gave employment to the people. 

These differences raised many difficult questions, but the 
whole problem was approached by the joint commission 
appointed by the King, in which the endeavour had been 
made to provide for the representation of every important 
interest, in a spirit of real compromise and conciliation. On 
two articles only did agreement prove impos- 

uS. Uhe sible - Of these the one affirmed the principle of 

religious equality, the other was intended to 

settle the proportion of representatives to be assigned to 


each people. It was, however, unwillingly recognised by the 
Belgian commissioners that the Allies did not mean to leave 
the first point open to discussion ; and the second, after both 
sides had claimed a numerical majority on plausible grounds, 
was settled by assigning an equal number of representatives 
to each. The Grond-wet, as adapted by the commission to the 
needs of the new state, emerged in a modified form. The 
States-General was to consist of two Chambers, the First 
of 60 members chosen by the King for life, the Second 
Chamber of 110 deputies, 55 from each half of the kingdom. 
Every ten years, the latter body was to have the right 
of revising the budget. These alterations increased rather 
than diminished the royal power. Few seem to have 
realised that, in view of the delicacy of the relations called 
into existence and of the known temperament of the King, 
the situation was full of danger. Compromise above all 
things was necessary, and the Grond-wet put the King above 
the need of seeking compromises. 

His first act might well have inspired uneasiness. The 
new arrangements were submitted for sanction to the Dutch 
States-General and to an assembly of Belgian 
notables. The former accepted them, the latter Prospects of 
rejected them, and by a large majority. The kingdom. 
King took the matter into his own hands and pro- 
ceeded to revise the Belgian decision. He counted in favour of 
the constitution the votes of all those members of the assembly 
who had been absent from the division, and he boldly dis- 
allowed every vote that had been given for the expressed 
purpose of protesting against religious equality. He thus 
secured a substantial majority. Yet when he entered Brussels 
a month later he was well received. The union being now 
completed, the Powers gave him the Grand Duchy of Luxem- 
bourg in exchange for his ancestral German dominions of 

In spite of its inauspicious beginning, there was much to 
encourage the hopes of those who had favoured the Union. 
The wealth and prosperity of the Belgian provinces grew 
apace. The King showed himself active in the promotion of 
material improvement. Means of communication were 
rapidly developed. Under the combined influence of the new 
processes of production, described in Chapter III, of new 
markets thrown open in the Dutch colonies and of the stimulus 
of the Dutch carrying trade, the manufactures of cotton, wool, 

120 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

and iron advanced by leaps and bounds. It can scarcely be 
doubted that wise moderation in dealing with the inevitable 
jarring of other interests would have been crowned with success. 
From the first, however, fundamental differences were 
apparent. Wherever there was a divergence of national 

interests, however small, the deputies of the 
dSr e e n ement. States-General voted solidly by nationalities, and 

the Dutch invariably secured a majority by the 
votes of a few Belgian government officials. The Hague was 
definitely adopted as the seat of government, nor was the stipu- 
lation of the Eight Articles that the Chambers should meet from 
time to time in Belgian territory regarded. The religious ques- 
tion gave trouble. The Bishop of Ghent denounced the oath 
to the Constitution as amounting to treason to the Church, and 
the government retaliated with harsh measures. The King's 
zeal in the encouragement of secular education, and a decree 
enforcing a philosophical course upon candidates for the 
priesthood, however salutary, provoked suspicion. An 
attempted Concordat with Rome, which might have settled 
both disputes, broke down, because at the last moment the 
Pope withdrew a clause which would have given the King the 
right of objecting to candidates for bishoprics, whose opinions 
were likely to be hostile. Moreover, the language question 
was one of extreme difficulty. At the outset of the connec- 
tion the use of either French or Dutch for all public purposes 
had been legalised. Obvious practical difficulties led the 
government in 1819 to demand a knowledge of Dutch from 
all candidates for state employment. Three years later, 
Dutch was formally recognised as the national and official 
language. It was however the common responsibility for the 
debt which really occasioned the final breach. The Belgian 
debt had been trifling, the Dutch debt enormous, and the 
expenses of the Waterloo campaign and colonial troubles in 
Java had augmented the joint burden. Moreover, the King 
did not feel himself justified in repudiating the obligations of 
the former French government. To relieve the financial 
situation, two most unwise and unpopular taxes were imposed 
upon food, the mouture, or tax upon meal, and the abbatage, or 
tax upon meat (1821). Finally, severe measures were taken 
against the growing hostility of the Belgian newspapers. 
During the Hundred Days a temporary decree had abrogated 
the freedom of the press guaranteed by the Grond-wet, and this 
decree was quite unjustifiably maintained in operation. 


There could scarcely have been any possibility of mistaking 
the unanimity of Belgian feeling. By 1828, Catholics and 
Anti-clericals had laid aside their time-honoured Be]gian 
feuds and were acting in concert. As if this national 
were not enough, a stream of widely signed oppos 
petitions began to flow into the Chamber demanding the con- 
sideration of the more intolerable grievances. This movement 
was met by a peremptory royal message ascribing the agitation 
to the work of a faction, and declaring in plain terms the 
freedom of the executive from popular control. To this state- 
ment the Minister of Justice, Van Maanen, was empowered to 
require the assent of all government officials. The challenge 
was taken up, and over the Budget the ministry suffered their 
first formal defeat in the Chamber (1829). The King retaliated 
by depriving six Belgian deputies of their official posts. The 
Belgian press now burst all bounds, and an attempt to establish 
a government journal under a foreign editor of disreputable 
antecedents only added to the popular irritation. Yet even 
the most bitter opponents of Dutch rule scarcely ventured as 
yet to preach separation. 

When the news arrived of the July Revolution in Paris 
Brussels was holding a great industrial exhibition. The pro- 
ceedings were to close with a grand display of 
fireworks, which, owing to seditious placards, Bnissei? at 
were now somewhat timorously countermanded. 
At the same time no provision was made for strengthening 
the troops, and the performance of an opera of 
revolutionary tendency was suffered to proceed without 
prohibition. On August 25th, a wild tumult of popular 
excitement originating in the theatre spread into the streets, 
and fomented by the alien refugees with whom Brussels 
abounded soon swelled into a formidable riot, in face of which 
the troops, irresolutely handled, proved powerless. In self- 
defence the principal inhabitants gathered an assembly of 
notables at the Hotel de Ville which took charge of the govern- 
ment and organised a citizen-guard which succeeded in 
restoring order (1830). 

The Prince of Orange, whose person and known views 
commanded much respect in Brussels, was now sent by the 
King to attempt conciliation. But William, who did not 
altogether trust his son, failed to arm him with full powers, 
and while the Prince returned to report the views of the Com- 
mittee at the Hotel de Ville, the extreme party had taken steps 

122 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

to make reconciliation impossible. An armed mob from Liege 
entered the city, and while their leaders were yet debating 
with the moderate chiefs of the committee, carried the popu- 
lace with them to an assault upon the Hotel de Ville. Amid 
scenes of violence, committee and citizen-guard disappeared. 
The extreme faction and the mob controlled the city. 

This intelligence decided the King to order Prince Frederick, 
his second son, to occupy Brussels with troops, and to put down 
the movement by force. The 10,000 men at his disposal 

proved inadequate and he was forced to retire 
The Belgians U p On Antwerp. But though it had failed to 
independence, restore order the attempt had not been without 

result. Confronted by a Dutch army, the 
national spirit awoke. Moderates and extremists coalesced, 
an attempt of the Prince of Orange to assume the government 
of Belgium in the interests of conciliation and order met with 
no support, and in November a National Congress of 200 elected 
deputies assembled, and declared for the independence of 
Belgium and for the immediate election of a new King. 

The tidings precipitated a fresh crisis in Paris. The 
populace heard with delight that another people, in a land but 

recently constituting an integral part of France, 
?Sis ngin an d unwillingly abandoned, had imitated the 

French example and defied the authority of a 
tyrannical King. They were already clamouring for the blood 
of Charles X's ministers. The old appeals to the Revolutionary 
traditions of national ambition and of the brotherhood of 
peoples were now loudly urged with the object of impelling 
France to war. A furious mob assaulted the Palais Royal and 
the Castle of Vincennes where the ex-ministers were lodged. In 
this crisis the King kept his head. His ministers were divided 
into the so-called " party of movement " and " party of 
resistance." Repression was worse than useless, and he 
accordingly permitted the retirement of the latter section, 
and gave his confidence to the former under the guidance of 
Laffitte and General Sebastiani. 

But the rioting in Paris was not the most serious of his 
difficulties. In spite of the efforts which had secured the 

recognition of his government, he now found 
understanding himself in a dilemma between the fierce demand 

oetween * ranee i -if-, -11 

and England, or his own people lor intervention and the certain 

hostility of the European Powers, already turning 

an ear to the Czar's proposals of combined action, if he 


abandoned his neutrality. With quick insight, Louis Philippe 
grasped at the one solution of his difficulties. England could 
save him in his need if Canning's principle of " non-inter- 
vention " still had power across the Channel ; and in London, 
Talleyrand, the fittest man for his purpose, was ambassador. 
Talleyrand approached Wellington, then prime minister, and 
found him disposed to listen, for suspicion of Russian intentions 
ruled high since the Treaty of Adrianople. 

The two statesmen were not long in reaching an agreement. 
By the end of October they had accepted the principle of 
separation between Holland and Belgium, and had decided 
neither to intervene themselves nor to permit the intervention 
of others, except by way of mediation. The attention of 
Russia and of Prussia was at the moment directed towards 
Poland and that of Austria towards Italy. Too much 
occupied to interfere they gave their adhesion to the principle 
of separation, and the task of giving effect to this deter- 
mination fell to a Committee appointed by the Conference of 
the Powers still sitting in London on the Greek question. 

This was the origin of the famous Entente Cordiale, and it 
is worth while to pause in the narrative to take note of its 
character. It was not, as many have tried to 
represent it, an alliance of two constitutional 
powers drawn together by their Liberal sympathies 
against the forces of despotism and reaction. The plain fact 
is that it was formed between England and the French govern- 
ment to restrain the traditional ambitions of the French 
nation, which seemed likely once more to make shipwreck of 
France. There was no pretence on either side of mutual 
guarantees, no undertaking on the part of either to support 
the interests of the other. Such close alliances have been, for 
better or for worse, very seldom acceptable to England. Wel- 
lington was not far wrong in calling it " a cardboard alliance." 

But if the sense of national honour was soothed, the 
French passion for national glory was not satisfied. Sympathy 
with revolted Poland and discontented Italy 
took the form of fresh riots, in one of which the 
Church of St. Germain 1'Auxerrois was sacked, vention. 
Already it had been necessary to force Lafayette 
to resign his position at the head of the National Guard by a 
premeditated slight, when the publication of the Protocols of 
the Conference (Jan. 1831) imperilled all that had been done. 
The Protocols laid down that Holland was to be separated 

124 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

from Belgium, one third of the debt was to be assigned to the 
latter, and Luxembourg was to be handed over to King William. 
The Belgian National Congress indignantly rejected the last 
two stipulations. The French ministers and the " party of 
movement " perceived the opportunity. It looked for the 
moment as though France might yet take the field as the 
ally of the Belgians. The ministers had already essayed through 
Talleyrand to bargain for territorial advantages, and General 
Sebastiani, who was in charge of Foreign affairs, now attempted 
to disavow the protocols. He even encouraged the Belgians 
to elect Louis Philippe's son, the Duke of Nemours, as their 
new King. The election took place, the offer of the Crown 
was made, and for the moment the King wavered. The 
desire to secure advantages for his own family was always a 
powerful motive with him. But prudence prevailed and the 
offer was firmly declined, not before the French designs had 
given rise to much suspicion and to some vigorous language 
on the part of Lord Palmerston. 

The situation was relieved by the resignation of the Laffitte 
ministry. Anxious to intervene in Italy and unable to do so 
in face of Louis Philippe's unwillingness to counten- 
separatkm ance their policy they resigned in dudgeon (March, 
throwers y 1831). The end of the first and most dangerous 
phase of the Belgian question was now in sight. 
Leopold of Coburg, the widowed husband of the English 
Princess Charlotte, the same who had declined the Crown of 
Greece ; was approved by the Powers and accepted at Brussels 
as the new King of the Belgians. He declared himself willing 
to accept the Crown on condition that he was permitted to 
secure some modification of the Protocols of January. In 
spite of vigorous protests by the Dutch, Eighteen Articles were 
finally approved leaving revolted Luxembourg in Belgian 
hands and laying upon Holland the entire burden of her debt 
incurred previous to the Union. By the end of July, Leopold 
had taken possession of his new kingdom. Louis Philippe had 
saved both his throne and his country from imminent peril. 
But at the very moment of his victory he found his hands 
unexpectedly tied. 

In March, 1831. a new ministry drawn from the " party of 
resistance " had come into power. At the head 
of the ministry stood Casimir-Perier, a man of 
clearly defined aims and immovable strength of 
purpose. The temporising policy of the King gave place to 


definite principles of action boldly enunciated and vigorously 
enforced. The immediate result of the change was seen in 
determined action against the Republican party. " I do not 
recognise," said the new minister, " the right of insurgents to 
force the government into a course of political change." 
There can be little doubt that his policy was right. Real 
grievances the working classes had in plenty, but these were 
not adequately represented by the Republican leaders and 
by such bodies as the " Societe des Droits D'Homme " (founded 
in July, 1830), which exploited them. Their militant abstrac- 
tions suggested, as a contemporary observer remarked, a 
greasy, dog-eared back-number of some Revolutionary publi- 
cation of the nineties. Casimir-Perier did not wait to be 
attacked. He fell upon them with prosecutions of journals 
and societies. A riot among the silk-weavers at Lyons was 
firmly repressed by the troops. Meanwhile, the Legitimist 
party had not ceased to give trouble. Under the leader- 
ship of the exiled Duchess of Berri they attempted to 
paralyse the government by loudly supporting the most 
extreme democratic demands. Strong in the support of the 
middle-classes, Casimir-Perier defied their clamours. 

In foreign policy, the government followed the old lines 
but with a vigour and decision which was unusual. " The 
July Revolution," said Casimir-Perier, " has not made a new 
France and a new Europe." The cause of Poland was reso- 
lutely abandoned. Nevertheless, non-intervention was not 
synonymous with inaction. King William I had never 
accepted the Eighteen Articles, and resolved to appeal to the 
sword. In July, 1831, the Prince of Orange at the head of 
the Dutch Army entered Belgium. Thrusting himself between 
the widely divided armies of the Scheldt and the Meuse he 
routed the former and occupied Louvain. The 
Belgian cause was all but lost when Casimir-Perier vade Bd&um. 
took a step at once bold and wise. A French 
army passed the frontier, and the Dutch came to a halt. 
Paris rejoiced at the manifest triumph of the French arms. 
But the boldness of the action did nothing to recommend it 
in the eyes of Palmerston, and the Entente seemed to tremble 
in the balance. His language clearly implied that England only 
valued the understanding as a security for peace, and he added 
with much truth that unless the French withdrew nothing 
could avert a European war. But Casimir-Perier had effected 
all that he had aimed at by his assertion of the independence 

126 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

of French policy. Both armies now evacuated Belgium and 
left the ground clear for the diplomatists. Twenty-four fresh 
articles gave part of Luxembourg to Holland, and effected a 
repartition of the debt unfavourable to Belgium. 

A similar boldness characterised French policy in Italy. 
The memories of the Napoleonic occupation turned towards 
France the eyes of all Italians who resented the 
Ancona tion f preponderance of Austria, while Frenchmen could 
never be indifferent to the lost provinces of the 
Empire. As a result of movements in the Papal States, 
to be noticed later (Chap. XIII.), Gregory XVI called in the 
assistance of Austrian troops from Lombardy. The French 
offered no objection to the repression of revolt so long as 
the other Powers were prepared to combine in recommending 
certain necessary reforms to the Pope. But when it seemed 
probable that Austria would undertake the permanent occupa- 
tion of the revolted districts, a French regiment was despatched 
by sea to occupy Ancona, where it held a position threatening 
the southward advance of the Austrian power, and could 
cover the landing of any reinforcements that might prove 
necessary. Thus, for the second time, Casimir-Perier had pro- 
tested against the restraint placed upon French independence of 
action as a precaution against French revolutionary sympathies. 

Yet, in truth, those sympathies were by no means extinct 
at home, and it will always remain doubtful what would have 
been the ultimate domestic policy of the resolute statesman 
who perished in the terrible cholera visitation of May, 1832 ; 
leaving his work well begun but incomplete. 

Louis Philippe in the meantime had been far from satisfied 

with an adviser whose domineering will had taken little regard 

of his opinions, and whose policy was too bold for 

Dissatisfaction his balancing temperament. Moreover, he was 

of Louis ,, . , . .. A , . , . . ,i j_ 

Philippe. well aware that it was due to himself alone that 

France had extricated herself from the im- 
mediate consequences of the July Revolution, and resented the 
appropriation of the entire credit by his ministers. He 
seems to have had no very great confidence in the efficacy of 
repression, and he was intensely nervous as to European inter- 
ference. Till October, he struggled to keep the following of 
his late minister out of office. 

The apparent results were not encouraging. The funeral 
of the Republican General Lamarque was the occasion of riots 
in which, for the moment, Paris was again at the mercy of the 


mob, while the adventurous Duchess of Berri, who had already 
attempted a landing at Marseilles, was busy inflaming a new 
Legitimist rising in La Vendee. In October, Louis Philippe 
submitted, and his old ministers returned to power under 
Marshal Soult, who was supported by a group of able and 
distinguished men, including Thiers, journalist and historian, 
Guizot, historian and professor, and the Duke of Broglie ; 
these last two both being the trusted leaders of the Doctrinaires. 
With these advisers, the King accepted the policy of repression 
and their influence was to dominate him for four years under 
different leaders and in various combinations. 

The first business of the new ministers was to take part in 
the final act of the Belgian revolutionary drama. King 
William still obstinately refused to accept the 
Twenty-four Articles, and declined to surrender Settlement of 
Antwerp, which was held by his troops. England question!*" 1 
and France were commissioned by the Powers 
to exercise a joint intervention. The English fleet 
blockaded the coast, while Antwerp fell before a French army. 
It only remains here to anticipate the final settlement. Not 
till 1839 did King William at last accept the situation and offer- 
to give his adhesion to the Twenty-four Articles. It was now 
Belgium that protested, for all this while she had remained in 
de facto occupation of Luxembourg, and had no mind to 
surrender what she had come to regard as her own. But 
the Powers were weary of the long wrangle and combined 
to impose obedience. 

By 1833, Guizot had confidently announced that in- 
surrection was dead, and had embarked upon educational 
proposals and upon public works calculated to 
silence discontent in the midst of enlighten- Continuance of 
ment and material advantages. The next repr??sion. f 
year saw a recrudescence of the activity of the 
revolutionary societies. The prosecution of some of the leaders 
resulted in an acquittal. The societies were thus encouraged 
to proclaim their aims without concealment. The government 
thereupon set to work systematically to strengthen and to 
sharpen the law. At Lyons early in April four days' fighting 
took place between the workmen and the troops before order 
could be restored. Later in the month an ill-timed rising in 
the St. Merry quarter at Paris gave less trouble. In the summer 
of 1835, a wholesale prosecution was successfully directed 
against the Republican leaders, in the course of which an 

128 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

attempt by a Corsican, named Fieschi, to assassinate the 
King by means of an arrangement of gun-barrels lashed 
together and fired simultaneously, served only to strengthen 
the hands of the government. 

But there were new symptoms in this outburst of dis- 
content that the ministers did ill to disregard. Behind all 
the childishness, the pedantry, and the clap-trap of the Re- 
publicans material grievances lay hidden in the mists. Strikes 
had become frequent, and had been treated in the same way 
as the political movements, with which, it must be admitted, 
they were commonly entangled. The future of the new French 
monarchy depended upon its being able to evolve a policy 
which would allay the social discontent, and so deprive 
revolution of its driving force. Louis Philippe seems to have 
been not insensible to the danger. For the present he was 
tied hand and foot to the policy of his middle-class advisers, 
happy in their doctrinaire fool's paradise of the " Just mean." 



PROBABLY no one has done more than Byron to popularise 
an entirely false conception of the Czar Alexander I. The 
bitter lines, which few people now read, were 
well calculated to hit the taste and prejudices, Popular mis- 

. , / i j. 2. t \. j.t 1. conception of 

if not of his own generation, at least of that Alexander. 
which succeeded it. The sons of those who had 
admired the hero of the War of Liberation learned to 
laugh at 

" The coxcomb Czar, 
The autocrat of waltzes and of war, 
As eager for a plaudit as a realm, 
And just as fit for flirting as the helm ; 
Now half dissolving to a liberal thaw, 
But hardened back whene'er the morning's raw." 

There could scarcely be a more misleading picture of a man 
who for all his social gifts lived his own simple strenuous 
life either wrapped in morbid solitude, or moving within the 
narrow circle of men who shared his dreams, nor one less just 
to a ruler whose ideals were in deadly strife with circum- 
stances more compelling than any Englishman could guess at. 
Byron might well have spared for Alexander some of the 
immense self-pity of Childe Harold. It was not for him at 
any rate to deride the fatal influence of sentiment upon life 
and politics. Had Byron worn a crown his bitterness would 
have dissolved in enthusiasms as generous as Alexander's own, 
yet his ultimate disillusionment would have been as complete. 
Indeed, before he died he had realised the sordid truths 
which underlay the beautiful mirage of Philhellenism. 

In Russia the Czar was better understood. His hopes, 
his reforms, 'his repressive measures, his despair, were but 
the moods of his own country and of his own 
time acting upon a singularly receptive nature. y uth nder S 
At the court of his grandmother, Catherine II., 
sensitive in spite of all its corruption, selfishness and rigid 


130 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

autocracy to the impress of western ideas, his youth was 
nourished amid chosen friends upon all those ideals of liberty 
and constitutional rule which formed such stuff as the dreams 
of the later eighteenth century were made of. The grim inter- 
lude of Asiatic tyranny which filled the five years of his father 
Paul I's reign turned dreams into resolves. " I shall set 
myself the task of making my country free. This revolution 
must be effected by constituted authority, and this authority 
will only disappear when the new Constitution is in working, 
and Russia has elected her representatives." 

When in 1801 his father's murder set him upon the throne, 
the work which he had thus outlined was begun. He re- 
organised the ministerial system, placing each 

Early reform. , & , ,. ' < i 

department under the supervision or one 01 his 
own friends. A Council of State was founded as the nucleus 
from which the projected constitutional system was to grow, 
and a senate to exercise a revising and controlling power over 
the administration. Meantime, education was encouraged, 
and the censorship relaxed. 

A period of protracted wars followed, first with Napoleon 
and his allies, a struggle suspended by the Treaty of Tilsit 
(1807) only to be resumed in 1811 ; with Sweden, by which 
Russia gained Finland (1809) ; with Persia, resulting in the 
annexation of Georgia (1802) and in complications with the 
tribes of the Caucasus ; with Turkey, ending in the Treaty of 
Bucharest (1812) and the acquisition of Bessarabia. Pro- 
bably nothing was more fatal to the Czar's plans than the 
demands which all these struggles made upon his time for 
fourteen continuous years. 

During the short interval of friendship with France the 
constitutional schemes were resumed under the guidance of 
Count Speranski. Finland acquired its free institutions, and 
the Council of State received legislative powers. But all that 
was worst as well as all that was noblest in the Russian national 
spirit awoke to resist the dictation of Napoleon, and in the 
uprising of 1812 the new-fangled western ideas and Speranski 
with them were swept away. Alexander never had so free 
a hand again. He was involved from the War of Libera- 
tion onwards in the web of European politics. The con- 
dition of finance, industry, and the army seemed 
to indicate a time unfavourable to experiment, 
and his impressionable nature fell much under 
the control of Arakchieff, an absolutist to the core. His new- 


found piety took a turn towards self-condemnation fatal to 
his strength of will. The gigantic administrative system, 
corrupt and ineffective in its workings, and with all its 
manifold ramifications and vested interests, seemed alike in- 
capable of assisting reform and instinct with all the powers of 
resistance. Alexander was driven to satisfy his aspirations 
with the most far-reaching paper schemes, while salving his 
conscience by activity in administrative reform. 

Only one constructive measure was in fact realised, the 
establishment of the system of Military Colonies which aimed 
at keeping the ranks full while avoiding the 
disadvantages of tearing the men away from 
home and from industry. In 1817 certain 
village communities on the Crown lands were made the sub- 
jects of an experiment. Every householder was required to 
have, as partner and inmate of his home, a soldier on the 
active list. In return for this service the State laid out 
money in buildings, repairs and improvements, and made 
provision for education. Thus each regiment became a semi- 
military, semi -agricultural group of villages under the authority 
of the commanding officer. The children, drilled from their 
youth, naturally passed into the army, and on leaving the 
army became householders in their turn. The system con- 
sorted well with the traditions of communal agriculture 
prevalent in Russia, but it broke down under the weight of 
military authority and military regulations conflicting with the 
laziness and with the daily habits of the peasants. Another 
sweeping reform was contemplated but never realised, the 
emancipation of the serfs. Serfage, in its com- 

, ., , IP The Serfs. 

pleted development, was neither universal nor ot 
great antiquity in Russia, having been introduced to check 
migrations of the peasantry to new lands after the repulse of 
the Tartar invasions of the fifteenth century. Nor was it 
accepted as a matter of course. Napoleon once said " with an 
army abroad the State goes travelling," and Russian soldiers 
had introduced the knowledge of freer agricultural conditions 
and the hope of change. Alexander did something by precept 
and example to encourage emancipation, but in the Baltic 
provinces, where systematic action alone was taken, its effect 
was marred by the failure to assign lands to the peasants, 
who thus became hired labourers. 

Meantime. Alexander was active in administrative reform, 
but the results did not correspond^to the_trouble expended. 

132 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

In attacking the evils of the system of government he 
assailed the symptoms rather than the disease. He was un- 
tiring in his journeys from place to place. Again 
4form lstrative an d again his emissaries intervened to remodel 
provincial governments and to dismiss corrupt 
officials. The men who replaced them, exposed to the same 
influences, too often fell back into the same ways. Thus each 
new decree of the Czar's was marred in its application. Still 
much was done. The enormous paper currency was reduced, 
an Imperial Bank was founded, and the national debt was 
put upon a proper footing. Manufacture was encouraged and 
Moscow began its modern development with glass, paper, and 
cotton industries, behind the protection of an import tariff. 
Roads, bridges, and canals opened possibilities of communica- 
tion. Alexander's modernising ideas took shape in the expulsion 
of the Jesuits, the encouragement of Bible societies, efforts for 
prison reform , and restrictions upon the use of capital punishment. 
But it was in Poland rather than in Russia that the Czar 
found himself in a position to realise his dreams. He had 
taken immense pains at Vienna to secure for 
pd der and himself a free hand in restoring the kingdom of 
Poland on a constitutional basis. Unable to 
recover for her the provinces which had passed under Austrian 
and Prussian control he had contemplated embodying in 
his creation the Polish districts of Lithuania, Podolia, and 
Volhynia, which had long been annexed to Russia. At times 
he even regarded the work as a first experimental step towards 
reconstituting the Russian Empire as a great federation 
of self-governing states under his crown. But his measures 
were taken with commendable caution and applied in the 
first instance to the former Grand Duchy of Warsaw only. 

A constitution was drawn up by his Polish friend and 
counsellor Adam Czartoryski. The Crown was to be here- 
ditary in the Russian royal house. There was 
Constitution. * ^ e a Viceroy and a Council of State and a Diet 
of two Chambers, the upper nominated by the 
king for life, the lower elected partly by the nobility, who 
held 77 seats, partly by the commercial, professional, and 
small landholding classes to the extent of 51 representatives. 
The Diet was to meet every two years and was to be summoned 
and dissolved by the King. Five ministers undertook the 
different departments of government. The members of all 
faiths were to enjoy equal civil rights, the Polish language 


alone was to be used, there was to be a separate Polish army, 
and only Poles were to be eligible for state employment. 

A Polish general, Zaionchek, became Viceroy. The Czar's 
brother and heir, Constantine, a man of narrow mind and brutal 
nature, was appointed commander-in-chief, not 
without the hope that his new surroundings new Ki C ngdo f m! e 
would educate him in more generous ideas against 
the time when he would succeed to the throne. Poland pros- 
pered under her new government. Education was cared for, 
a University was founded splendidly equipped for all branches 
of study, mining was developed, the capital was beautified, 
communication by road and river was improved. The financial 
difficulties of the moment were tided over by making Russia 
responsible for the budget. Alexander was able to meet 
his first Diet in 1818 with a speech full of hope and with hints 
at a further extension of territory. Yet his words were not 
without a note of warning. To the eternal misfortune of 
Poland it was not heeded in the country at large, and the fair 
opportunity of recovering her place among the nations was lost. 

The whole history of Poland had been one of undisciplined 
self-will in individuals and classes, which her institutions 
seemed designed to foster, and which had resulted 
in anarchy and ultimately in partition. A tSe* 0ming 
" Patriotic Society " had existed in 1814 with a 
large number of branches. Encouraged lay Alexander the 
society repaid him with admiration, which gradually gave 
place to much criticism of the government and to a good deal 
of anti-Russian feeling. By 1820, when the second Diet met, 
there were already fatal differences between the chief men 
in authority, and a new spirit made its appearance in the Diet 
itself. While maintaining an attitude of general moderation 
the members rejected two bills, refused taxes, and presented a 
long list of grievances, while a bitter attack was made upon the 
government by a leading deputy. Alexander gravely warned 
them that they were delaying progress. Before the next Diet 
met he had passed under the influences which sent him to 
Verona in 1822 a changed man. Arakchieff and the church- 
men, Seraphim and Photius, affected his policy at home as 
Metternich had affected it abroad. The Bible societies, the 
Press and education all suffered a sharp check from his in- 
creasing suspicion. Upon these suspicions the increased activity 
of the '' Patriotic Society," which culminated in a series of 
trials in 1822, acted as a powerful irritant. The censorship 

134 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

of the press was established, the Diet was deprived of 
publicity of debate, and other precautions were taken to silence 
opposition before the members met. Much useful work was 
done, and the Diet was commended by Alexander but less 
warmly than of old. It was his last visit to Warsaw. 

Without children or the hope of heirs, since he and the 
Empress had agreed long since to live apart, he had for some 
time contemplated abdication, and his distaste 
l for the views and distrust of the abilities of 
Constantine had turned his thoughts to his 
third brother the Grand Duke Nicholas, eighteen years younger 
than himself. Constantine was not unwilling to agree. He 
had little faith in his own powers, he was childless, and had 
recently divorced his wife and married a Polish lady, Johanna 
Grudzinska. Nicholas was sounded. Happy in his home 
life with the Princess Charlotte of Prussia and absorbed in 
his military duties, he heard with horror the fate proposed for 
him. He saw in his brother a ruler labouring incessantly for 
the good of his people, and meeting only with disappointment 
and ingratitude. The projected abdication was therefore 
dropped, and it was without the knowledge of Nicholas that 
Alexander and Constantine proceeded to settle the succession. 
An Imperial decree re-affirmed the principle of primogeniture, 
and excluded the succession of females except in default of 
male heirs, while it was laid down that no one who had married 
outside a royal house should be allowed to pass on a claim 
to his descendants. Finally, an instrument was secretly drawn 
up formally designating Nicholas as heir, and sealed up, with 
the correspondence which had passed between Alexander and 
Constantine, in a packet deposited in the Cathedral at Moscow. 
These papers were not to be opened till the Czar's death. 
So strange a method of procedure seems to have been prompted 
alike by the uncertainty of Constantine' s intentions and by a 
wish to deprive Nicholas of the opportunity for protest. It 
was attended with fatal results. 

Alexander was not the only Russian in whom generous 
instincts and imperfect political experience had begotten 
visions of reform more fantastic than practical. 
Revolutionary The officers of the army, educated by contact 
the 1 Army n with western ideas during the War of Liberation, 
dreamed of Constitutions and the reorganisation 
of Russian society. As time went on hope turned to dis- 
appointment and disappointment soured into conspiracy. 


By 1821 the secret societies contained none save those who 
were prepared to seek their ideals by way of revolution. 
In the north they coalesced into the "Society of St. Petersburg," 
under the nominal guidance of Prince Trubetskoi ; in the south 
Pestel, son of a justly disgraced governor of Siberia, headed 
the " Union of Salvation," which took for its avowed aim 
the extinction of the House of Romanoff and the establish- 
ment of a republic. It was the ease with which these societies 
absorbed all the discontent, disappointment, and personal 
vindictiveness generated under an autocracy which constituted 
their danger. 

Before leaving Warsaw for the last time Alexander had 
heard of the existence of conspiracy. In the Crimea fuller 
details came to his knowledge, and orders were 
given for extensive arrests. There can be little 
doubt that it was this final blow to his hopes 
which made him refuse the advice and help of his physicians till 
his weary spirit and shattered frame were beyond their assist- 
ance. His death precipitated the dramatic crisis which his 
own action had prepared. The mysterious packet was pro- 
duced and opened, and the Imperial Council acclaimed Nicholas 
as Czar. Nicholas refused to be his brother's supplanter, and 
his iron will bore down all entreaties. He forced the council 
to take the oath of allegiance to Constantine, and to issue a 
decree requiring it of all who served the State. Scarcely had 
these measures been effected when the Grand Duke Michael 
arrived, bearing letters from Constantine announcing his fixed 
determination to abide by Alexander's arrangements. He 
was sent back in haste with the information that steps had 
been taken which could not be retraced. But Constantine had 
already heard the news from St. Petersburg without wavering 
in his resolution, and the Grand Duke met his messengers half 
way. Their tidings convinced him that further remonstrance 
was useless. After three weeks, filled with rumours and 
counter-rumours, Nicholas was at last proclaimed (Dec. 1825). 

In this interval the conspirators had not been idle. Fortune 
seemed to offer them a fair opportunity for realising their 
plans. It was decided to use the name of Con- 
stantine to work upon the regiments of Guards 
stationed in the capital. The accession of the 
younger brother was to be represented to the ignorant soldiers 
as a usurpation, a military coup d'etat was to force an abdication 
from Nicholas, and then the way would be clear for a National 

136 THE ENTENTE CORDIALS, 1830-1848 

Assembly and a republic. There were noble and generous 
spirits among these Decembrists, as they were called, and the 
objects they sought were not unlike those which had inspired 
the best years of the late Czar. But justice requires that we 
should not be blind to the criminal recklessness of those who 
pursued their vision of an ideal Russia by the crooked ways of 
assassination and military violence. 

During the morning of December 27 the mutinous troops, 
among whom the conspirators had been at work all night, 
began to defile into the Square of the Senate cheering loudly 
for Constantine and Constitution, a word which most of them 
understood as being the name of the Viceroy's wife. Here 
they formed up, and awaited the next move of their leaders. 

A Louis XVI would have been lost. But face 
Scene in the to face with the probable defection of all his 
senate. f troops the resolution of Nicholas had never 

faltered. " If I am to be Czar for an hour," he 
said, " I will be so with dignity." Early in the morning he 
had ordered the oath of allegiance to be administered to the 
officers of all the Guards regiments. This prompt action 
secured the adhesion of a majority of the garrison, though 
in some cases the men shot the officers sent to reason with them. 
The Czar in person appeared outside his palace and addressed 
the hesitating populace, whose support the conspirators had 
hoped to enlist. His commanding presence and fearless 
demeanour had their effect in a burst of cheers and professions 
of loyalty. The issue of the day was already as good as 
decided when Nicholas, following the first detachment of loyal 
troops, rode into the Square of the Senate, and faced the 
mutineers who stood waiting for orders with their backs to the 
Neva, and with old general Miloradovich lying dead at their 
feet. Trubetskoi and the rest had lost their heads, and while 
the soldiery on both sides hesitated and wavered, resolution, 
and resolution alone, could have snatched a victory. Nicholas 
had never wavered. The exits of the square were now closed, 
the surrender of the mutineers seemed in sight. But as the 
afternoon waned away in suspense it became clear that decisive 
measures must be taken before darkness, with all the possi- 
bilities of riot, came on. The cavalry were ordered to charge 
the disaffected troops and disperse them. Their horses 
slipped upon the frosty pavement, and they were unable to 
act in the confined space. Then Nicholas brought up the 
guns and unlimbered opposite the rebels. Before giving 


the command to fire he sent two Archbishops in their robes 
to speak to the disloyal regiments. They met with nothing 
but hoots and hostile cries. Once the guns fired, and the 
grape-shot screamed over the heads of the mutineers. There 
was a pause, and still they stood fast. Then twice, and in 
rapid succession, the square echoed again to the artillery, and 
when the smoke lifted the ground was strewn with dead, and 
the survivors were a flying mob. 

The victory was followed up by a relentless prosecution 
of the movers of the conspiracy. The investigations were 
conducted in secret, and every kind of pressure, short of actual 
torture, was used to extract evidence. Of 121 persons found 
guilty, five were hanged, 31 sent to Siberia, and the rest were 
sentenced to various terms of imprisonment. They had done 
their country an evil turn. December 27th completed the 
political education of the Czar Nicholas I. 

Born in 1796, he had been brought up in seclusion and under 
influences very different from those which had moulded 
Alexander. The French revolution had run its 
course, and seemed to promise disastrous con- ^choias. r 
sequences to ideal strivings after liberty. The 
War of Liberation appeared to confirm the judgment of those 
who stood by the good old ways. These influences reacted 
upon a character essentially different from his brother's. If 
in Alexander sympathy had been developed to the detriment 
of will power, in Nicholas will was incarnate at the expense 
of sympathy. A lover of order and detail he was caught by 
the fascination which military command exercises upon such 
natures, while his home life inclined him to optimism, and 
set him at peace with his own thoughts. Honourable as he 
was, high-minded, and a man of his word, his knowledge of the 
limitations imposed on him by his narrow education bred 
a distrust of himself which issued in such stiffness and 
reserve as repelled sympathy and excited the distrust of 
others. The tragedy of his brother's life and the events of 
his own accession led him to see in innovation the danger to 
Russia's peace, and blinded him to other dangers at least as 
menacing. From the beginning of his reign he stood fast 
for the old traditions of Russia and for the principles of absolu- 
tism. His gigantic figure arrayed according to his invariable 
custom in stiff military uniform, loomed large in the imagina- 
tion of his contemporaries, and the unbending will excited ac- 
cording to their prepossessions, either their fears or their respect. 

138 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

His dealings with Poland first revealed his autocratic temper 
to Western Europe. He declared at once his acceptance of 
the Constitution granted by Alexander, while 
making it clear that he did not intend to restore 
the districts already incorporated in Russia. At 
the same time he demanded from the government of the un- 
willing Constantine an investigation into the proceedings of the 
Polish patriotic societies, whose connection with the Decembrist 
movement the St. Petersburg trials had demonstrated, while 
exculpating them from a share in any murderous designs. A 
Court of the Diet tried the suspected persons, pronounced 
some light sentences, and declared many of them acquitted. 
The Czar resented what he regarded as the obvious sympathy 
shown by the Court. It was several months before he con- 
firmed the sentences. Nevertheless his coronation at Warsaw 
in May, 1829, was attended by no unpleasant incidents, and his 
speeches to his first Diet in 1830 were friendly without being 
cordial. Meanwhile, a new secret society had been founded 
by Vysocki, and conspiracy spread slowly. The Czar's own 
determination to use the Polish army against the July Revolu- 
tion in France moved the plotters to action, for it was on the 
troops they chiefly relied. But Polish opinion was fatally 
divided. The Princes would gladly have conciliated Russia, a 
moderate party desired merely to insist on all the guarantees 
of the Constitution, only the extremists desired complete 
national separation. 

But extreme counsels were gaining ground, and riots broke 
out in Warsaw on November 29, 1830, in which the Viceroy's 
palace and the cavalry barracks were stormed. 
Constantine showed fatal irresolution. Unwilling 
or afraid to use the military against the people 
he withdrew with his Russian regiments, leaving the Polish 
army free to join the insurgents. The Council and the party 
of the Princes at first attempted to hold the revolution in 
check. Chlopicki, a veteran of Napoleon's wars was appointed 
to command the troops, and Constantine was invited to return, 
but was frightened across the frontier by the more violent party. 
This made a Provisional Government necessary, though Chlo- 
picki made one more effort to gain time by declaring himself 
Dictator. His position became impossible when the Czar's reply 
to the Polish deputation which had been despatched to St. 
Petersburg came in. It was a stern demand for unconditional 


Poland had now to fight. A national government took over 
the direction of affairs, Radzivil, one of the princes, was willing 
to lead the army. There were good grounds for hope. Poland 
possessed a disciplined and well-trained force, the Russian 
armies were far away, a resolute advance into the Polish 
provinces of Russia, such as Chrzanovski advised, 
would have set them in flames. The opportunity 
was missed ; and at the beginning of February 
Diebitsch crossed the frontier and made straight for Warsaw. 
A desperate battle at Grochov within striking distance of the 
capital, in which he only just succeeded in driving the Poles 
from the field, convinced him of his inability to attempt a 
siege. He drew off and dispersed his force to cover the Russian 
frontier against the invasion he rightly apprehended. 

The Poles with characteristic suspicion had superseded 
their commander in favour of Skrzynecki. The new general 
failed to perceive the advantage which his opponent's dis- 
positions offered him, and followed his example in dividing his 
forces. He was thus unable to win more than trifling successes, 
and allowed two raids into Lithuania and Volhynia to fail for 
want of support. At last, on the advice of a subordinate, he 
resolved to throw his whole force on the most northerly of the 
Russian detachments, and to place himself where he could 
threaten their communications both with their advancing rein- 
forcements and with the friendly territory of Prussia. The 
Russian detachment was beaten and driven off the field, but 
Skrzynecki's unwise decision to send a column into Lithuania 
exposed the remainder of his force to the full weight of Die- 
bitsch's army at Ostrolenka, where he suffered a crushing 

It was the last achievement of the Russian general. Both 
he and Constantine fell victims to cholera, and Paskievich 
the victor of the Persian war (p. 141), took command. The 
new general, now strongly reinforced, adopted a strategy 
which threw the Polish plans of defence into confusion. 
Crossing the Vistula below the enemy's positions he moved in 
on Warsaw from the north and west, while suspicion, riot, and 
changes of command in the capital destroyed all hope of resist- 
ance. On September 8 the Russians entered the city, and 
by the end of October the insurrection was over. 

All this while the Poles had been making agonised appeals 
to the opinion of Europe and to the Treaties of Vienna. They 
met with much sympathy. Few knew or cared to know what 

140 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

E revocation had been offered by a nation gallantly striving 
>r liberty. But Poland was far away, and whatever the 
people might think it was only in England and France that 
the governments were likely to take action. Nicholas felt 
himself strong enough to defy English and French repre- 
Be ression sentations which appealed to the guarantees of 
national independence given at Vienna. He stated 
in plain terms that he intended to disregard them. Repres- 
sion and Russification were pressed on apace. 

In Russia itself, while commerce was actively encouraged 
and literature of a non-political character nourished, a system 
of passports, the censorship, and the jealous control of educa- 
tion set barriers to any inroads of disturbing tendencies from 

From this moment Nicholas became the hope and support 
of all who dreaded revolutionary change. Metternich made 
overtures to him, which were at first met with suspicion owing 
to Austria's attitude during the Turkish war (p. 90). But 
difficulties with England, shortly to be described, decided the 
Czar to reconsider his position. It is to be noted however 
that he never yielded himself, like Alexander, to Metternich's 
guidance, and that in his relations with Austria 
^ s attitude was that of a protector and patron. 
The result of the rapprochement was a meeting 
between the two Emperors and the Prussian Crown Prince at 
Miinchengratz (September, 1833), where an important agree- 
ment was arrived at. The three Powers undertook, first, to 
seek no territorial advantages in Turkey except in the event 
of the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire, in which case 
they agreed to act in common ; secondly, to take combined 
action against unrest in their Polish districts and in the 
mutual surrender of political refugees, and, thirdly, to recog- 
nise the right of any of the three to summon the other 
two to his help when threatened by rebellion at home. The 
agreement was in fact a counterblast to the entente cordiale, 
and as such it was interpreted. 

In default of definite knowledge of its provisions its scope 
was even magnified in the imagination of the Western Powers. 
It was believed to contain a formal arrangement for the 
partition of Turkey between Austria and Russia. It was 
not then known that in 1829 a committee, specially appointed 
by the Czar to consider the question, had reported in favour 
of maintaining Turkey as a weak State, instead of absorbing 


further portions of her territory, as more likely to conduce to 
Russian influence in the East. Moreover, the Persian war 
had revived the suspicions with which England watched any 
extension of the Russian power in the direction of India. 
After the Treaty of Gulistan in 1813 Alexander Persian war 
stood possessed of the whole valley of the Kur 
south of the Caucasus, comprising Georgia and the districts 
reaching to the Caspian, together with the provinces of Min- 
grelia and Imeritia, which connected it with the Black Sea. 
Frontier disputes had led to an invasion of Russian territory 
by Shah Fatteh Ali in 1826. Repulsed at Elizabetopol by 
Paskievich he had been pursued into his own land, the frontier 
fortress of Erivan had been stormed, Tabriz had been occupied, 
and while the Shah, relying upon Turkey, still refused to 
acknowledge defeat, Paskievich, disregarding his communica- 
tions, had struck boldly for Teheran and had dictated the 
Treaty of Turkmanchai (1828), by which the Russian frontier 
was advanced still further south. 

But it was another series of events, which had preceded 
the meeting at Miinchengratz by a few months, which seemed 
to afford the strongest authority for the most sinister inter- 
pretations. In 1831 the ambition of Mehemet Ali raised the 
spectre of the Eastern Question. An Albanian adventurer, like 
Ali Pasha of Janina whose career presents points 
of resemblance to his own, he went to Egypt with 
a regiment of Turkish irregulars, at the time of 
Napoleon's expedition, and was narrowly saved from drowning 
by an English man-of-war's boat, when the French drove the 
Turks into the sea at Aboukir Bay. He had returned in 1801 
to play for his own hand in the strife between the Mamelukes 
and the Sultan's troops, had been accepted by the chief men 
at Cairo as the only ruler capable of restoring order, and had 
been confirmed in his authority as Pasha of Egypt by the 
Sultan in 1806. With an army drilled and disciplined on the 
European model by the aid of French officers, he had exter- 
minated the Mamelukes, dictated terms to Arabia, and subdued 
the Soudan as far south as Khartoum. To maintain his army 
and his fleet he had declared the land of Egypt the property of 
the State, and had established a government control and 
monopoly over every branch of trade and manufacture. 
These so-called "reforms," which were the ruin of Egypt, 
were loudly acclaimed by ill-informed persons all over Europe 
and especially in France. 

142 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

The part which he played in the Greek Revolution has 
already been described. Owing to the intervention of the 
Powers Mahmoud had been able to withhold 
the a p r ort<T ith fro m hi m the greater part of his promised reward. 
Crete was a small consolation to one who had 
hoped to receive the Morea, Syria, and Damascus besides. 
Moreover, the Sultan had been showing a disquieting activity 
in setting his house in order. The independence of the vassal 
Pashas was being curtailed, and in Bosnia Reshid was actually 
engaged in putting down the rebellious governor by force. 
Khosrew, the bitterest foe of Mehemet Ali, was a power at 
court. Ambition and fear combined to urge the Pasha of 
Egypt to strike, and, in 1831, Ibrahim invaded Syria and laid 
siege to Acre, while loudly declaring his loyalty to the Sultan. 
After painful hesitation Mahmoud, surrounded as he was 
by difficulties, decided to declare war. Bosnia was heaving 
with discontent, his fleet had perished at Nava- 
" rm ' n ^ s funds had been absorbed by indemnities 
to Russia. His fears proved well founded. 
Ibrahim captured Acre without difficulty. Winning the 
Christian Druses of Lebanon by the promise of equality for 
all creeds, and the Arabs of the desert by his successes 
against the power that restrained their depredations, he was 
now free to continue his advance. At Horns and at Hamah 
the Turks went down before him, Aleppo was occupied, the 
Beilan pass was forced, and the victorious Egyptians entered 
Asia Minor. 

In his distress the Sultan looked wildly about him for a 
friend. His own subjects hated him for his reforms and for his 
concession of equal rights to his Christian sub- 
anlSewar. jects ; Europe was attracted by the sham civi- 
lization of Mehemet Ali. Mahmoud feared Russia, 
and Austria had thrown herself into Russia's arms. France 
he hated for annexing the territory of his vassal in Algiers 
(p. 109). He therefore approached England, supported by 
Stratford Canning, her ambassador. Palmerston hesitated. 
He dared not throw himself into opposition to the supposed 
policy of Russia, and every prejudice and presumption 
restrained him from the wiser course of seeking an agreement 
with her. 

Meanwhile events were moving fast. Ibrahim had ad- 
vanced still further, had beaten Reshid at Konieh, and was 
preparing to move forward on Brusa (1832). A Russian 


envoy, Count Muravieff, appeared at Constantinople to offer 
the assistance of the Czar, and proceeded to Alexandria to 
threaten the Pasha. The threat was ineffectual, and Mahmoud 
had but one resource. " Drowning men," said Khosrew, 
" clutch at serpents." The Sultan appealed to Russia and a 
Russian squadron appeared in the Bosphorus. France and 
England now combined, but they were already to all intents 
and purposes diplomatically beaten. They first bent their 
efforts to induce Ibrahim to withdraw. This he refused to do 
save on his own terms, which amounted to a demand for the 
pashaliks which he had occupied south of the Taurus. The two 
Powers thus found themselves forced into the invidious position 
of attempting to thrust upon the Sultan in the 
guise of friends the demands of his deadliest 
enemy. In this endeavour they succeeded. 
Russia, though her troops were already encamped on the 
Bosphorus, was unwilling to face the European War which 
the active assistance of Mahmoud would have entailed. The 
Convention of Kiutayeh ended the war by giving the Pasha of 
Egypt all that he asked (May, 1833). 

The clumsy diplomacy of the allies bore strange fruit. 
French and English influence now counted for nothing against 
Prince Orloff the emissary of the Czar, fortification began on 
the Dardanelles, and the Russian retirement was delayed from 
week to week. Suddenly in July the astonishing explanation 
was made public. Angered at the desertion of his pretended 
friends the Sultan had come to terms with his hereditary 
foe, and had signed the Treaty of Unkiar Skelessi 
with Russia for mutual assistance and support. 
Then slowly it leaked out that by a secret clause 
the Porte promised to close the Dardanelles to war-ships " if 
need arose." The indiscretion of a minister supplied the 
explanation of the ambiguous phrase. The Dardanelles were 
to be closed at the discretion of the Czar. Turkey was indeed 
reduced to the position of a vassal state. 

To Englishmen from this moment all that they detested in 
politics seemed incarnate in the person of Nicholas, the bar- 
barous oppressor of Poland, the would-be devourer 
of Turkey, the insidious foe of their Indian 
Empire. The Czar was less prejudiced. Senti- 
mental reasons were not, it is true, without their weight with 
him. He despised William IV for his assent to the Reform 
Bill, as the King " who had tossed his crown into the gutter." 

144 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

But he by no means extended to England his detestation of 
Louis Philippe and of France. He saw that English and 
Russian interests were not inconsistent, and he desired to 
sever the slender thread of the entente. In 1834, when Peel 
was in power, an exchange of views took place, through the 
agency of the Duke of Wellington^ in which the Czar described 
the treaty of Unkiar Skelessi as possessing only an historical 
significance. Next year Palmerston, " the Jacobin," as the 
Czar called him, returned to office, and no further advances 
were made. But events were in progress which were to 
bring even an Anglo-Russian agreement within the bounds of 



EVENTS had already been taking place which had put a severe 
strain upon the entente. 

For ten years, since the French intervention of 1823, Spain 
had been left without interference to the solution of her own 
problems. But Ferdinand VII. had learned 
nothing by the movement of 1820. In common, |er<nand vn. 
it must be admitted, with the majority of his 
subjects he did not realise the existence of any problem at all. 
As for a solution he unconsciously made the task all but 
impossible by deferring the day of reckoning with forces 
which meanwhile acquired explosive power. His restoration 
to authority inaugurated a relentless proscription of everything 
that savoured of revolution by means of a system of courts- 
martial, spies and informers, directed by his Minister of Justice, 

Thorough as his measures were, they did not go far enough 
for the stiffer exponents of Spanish tradition, who had their 
own grievances to avenge on the revolutionary party. 
Ferdinand had not restored the Inquisition, he had shown 
himself ungrateful to his most zealous partisans, even his 
severities wore to their eyes the appearance of culpable mild- 
ness. This party, the so-called " Apostolicals," looked with hope 
to the King's brother and heir Carlos. A revolt 
of the reactionary elements under Bessieres gave oppoSon? Uary 
Ferdinand an excuse for repressive measures as 
thorough and searching as those against the Constitutionalists. 
Carlos, meanwhile, narrow-minded but strict in his personal 
loyalty to his brother, gave no encouragement to reaction. The 
one immediate result of the agitation was Ferdinand's recogni- 
tion of Louis Philippe, whose accession put an end to the 
assistance afforded by French ultra -Royalists to Apostolical 
raids across the northern frontier. Both parties had felt the 

146 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

weight of Ferdinand's hand and suffered, the one in despair, 
the other with hope. The future seemed to belong to Carlos. 

The prospects of the two parties were suddenly reversed. 
In 1829 the King's third wife died. A few months later, 
influenced by his domineering Neapolitan sister- 
in-law, Carlota, he married her sister Cristina, 
a girl of twenty-three. Under her influence 
the surroundings of the Court became more cheerful and its 
policy milder. Many regarded the Queen as a Liberal in dis- 
guise, and the confidence of the Apostolical party was shaken 
by the birth of the Infanta Isabel in October, 1830. This 
event, however, was by no means decisive of the future. The 
ancient Spanish code of Partidas recognised the right of 
females to succeed to the throne. Philip V, the first Bourbon 
King, had introduced the Salic Law prevailing in France. 
But at a later date Charles IV, Napoleon's victim, had singed 
a " Pragmatic Sanction " restoring the old custom. This 
document had been kept a secret. It was now published by 
order of the King, and a will was made in favour of Isabel. 

Carlos never accepted its legality. He refused to rebel 
against his brother, but he declared himself determined, 
when the time came, to assert his rights. Strife and intrigue 
gathered round Ferdinand's declining years. Once during an 
illness he had actually revoked the Pragmatic Sanction, when 
the resolute Carlota appeared at the royal bedside, boxed Calo- 
marde's ears in the King's presence, and secured the 
nomination of Cristina as Regent till Ferdinand's 
recovery, when the oath of allegiance to Isabel 
was imposed on all who did not quit Spain. And all this 
while the government was driven more and more to lean upon 
Liberal support against the faction of Carlos. In September, 
1833, Ferdinand died, and Cristina was proclaimed Regent. 

Meantime, a series of events which read like a chapter of 
romance were leading to a situation curiously similar in 
Portugal. It will be remembered that, as the 
result of tne mediation of the Powers directed by 
Canning, Miguel had been left in the position 
of Regent for his niece Maria da Gloria. In 1828, he found 
himself strong enough for a coup d'etat. The Cortes in their 
ancient form were summoned and declared the Regent King 
amid the applause of the nation, with whom he had always 
been the ruler of their choice. A fierce persecution of his 
political opponents began, rather at the instigation of his 


advisers than by his own wish, for Miguel, though coarse and 
reactionary enough; was himself good-natured. Maria was 
taken to London by her counsellor, Palmella, and afterwards 
proceeded to Brazil. The Powers stood neutral, and while 
attempting to mediate, recognised the new government. The 
revolution was to all appearances completely successful. 

The tables were to be turned in a most unexpected fashion. 
Alone in all the Portuguese dominions, the little garrison of 
Angra, on the island of Terceira, in the Azores 
group, held out for Maria II. In spite of the g 1 \Ses! n 
vigilance of British war-ships, which were being 
used to enforce neutrality, they were relieved and reinforced 
by a Brazilian cruiser, and under the command of the gallant 
Villa Flor beat off an expedition despatched against them by 
Miguel. Palmella now appeared in the Azores to organise a 
government in the Queen's name, and before long Villa Flor 
had succeeded in mastering every island of the group (1829). 

The year 1830 brought Louis Philippe to power in France, 
and installed Palmerston at the British Foreign Office, as a 
member of the Whig Government which carried 
the Reform Bill. For thirty years from this mo- paiSerston. 
ment his influence was to be a decisive factor in 
European politics. Bluff, genial, dogmatic, and outspoken, he 
embodied in himself all the qualities which the mass of English- 
men respect. They liked his almost brutal recognition of 
facts, and they believed him to be the incarnation of common- 
sense and the foe of anything approaching ideas and principles. 
In this belief they were wrong. As Castlereagh had passed 
from common action with the other Powers to " non-inter- 
vention," as Canning had carried " non-intervention " to the 
length of mediating in favour of the popular cause, so Palmer- 
ston gave a colour both to mediation and non-intervention 
which was frankly Liberal. He openly sympathised with 
popular movements as such, without much regard to their 
origin. He connived at infractions of British neutrality in 
their favour. He lectured foreign potentates on the blessings 
of Constitutional rule. All this was forgiven by the most 
conservative of Englishmen, because it flattered the national 
pride. Abroad, Palmerston was well hated by the monarchs, 
Later on, their discontented subjects found out that his 
sympathy did not go to the length of interfering by force of 
arms on their behalf, and were correspondingly disappointed. 
Altogether, while he stimulated a healthy national feeling in 

148 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

his own country, lie did not enlarge the circle of her continental 

The friendly indifference of the British and French 

Governments was soon to be valuable to the cause of Queen 

Maria. But the moving spirit of all that followed 

pedr? mper r came from across the Atlantic. Barely thirty 
years old, the Emperor Pedro was already restless 
on the throne of Brazil. His adventurous, unquiet nature, 
ever eager for fresh sensations, had brought misfortune on his 
country and had offended his subjects. A new quest now 
beckoned him across the sea, and in 1831 he abdicated of his 
own will in favour of his son Pedro II, to appear as a free- 
lance in the cause of his dispossessed daughter. 

In London, and afterwards in Paris, his plans were formed. 
A loan was raised, two Indiamen were converted into war-ships, 
manned by English crews, and placed under the command of 
an English captain named Sartorius. At Belle-Isle, in full 
view of French officials, these ships took on board Colonel 
Hodges and a small band of British mercenaries, as well as 
the ex-Emperor and his staff, and sailed for the Azores. By a 
strange chance the tiny squadron possessed for the moment 
the command of the sea. To exact satisfaction for wrongs 
inflicted upon French subjects, Admiral Roussin had sailed up 
the Tagus and insisted on the temporary surrender of Miguel's 

The Emperor firmly believed that the " Liberator Army " 
had only to show itself in Portugal to be received with acclama- 
tion. Nothing could have been further from the truth, and 
yet it was this unwavering confidence in a false premise which, 
in spite of much opposition, won the sanction of his supporters 
for a step which was to prove decisive. After a short delay, 
caused by the insubordination of the troops, the expedition, 
7000 men all told, sailed from the Azores and landed unopposed 
at Mindello. Its peril was extreme. To the north lay Oporto, 
with a garrison of 12,000 ; from the south another army was 
prepared to move in to enclose the invader. Then an amazing 
thing happened. General Santa Martha evacuated 
Sporto? ccupies Oporto, and the Emperor took possession. Even 
now his situation was hopeless, if his enemies had 
closed theDouro and cut him off from Sartorius, whose squadron 
lay out at sea. Squandering their strength in useless assaults, 
they did not try to do so till too late, when the attempt was 
checked by Saldanha. Nevertheless, by the beginning of 1833 


the position of Oporto was well-nigh desperate, and the 
garrison were reduced to their last resources when Captain 
Napier superseded Sartorius, who by his failure to seek out the 
enemy's fleet had shown some lack of enterprise. 

At Napier's suggestion it was decided to attempt a diversion. 
Some steamers were brought from England, and a tiny force 
of 2500 men under Villa Flor, now Duke of 
Terceira, was sent round by sea and landed at 
Cacellas Bay in the district of Algarves. Faro 
the capital of the province was occupied, and a government 
established by Palmella. Meanwhile, Napier, free to act on 
his own discretion, had run down the enemy's fleet off Cape 
St. Vincent. Inferior in the number of his vessels and the 
power of his guns, but confident in the superiority of his 
English crews, he gave the order to lay ship to ship and board. 
His daring was rewarded. The whole of the enemy's fleet 
with the exception of two of the smallest craft were captured. 
Encouraged by this success, Terceira determined to act 
with similar audacity. A movement of his opponent. Mollelos, 
to recapture a lost town momentarilv uncovered 
the road to Lisbon. With 1500 men, Terceira 
made for the capital. At Setubal a detachment 
of the enemy took to their heels at his approach. At Piedade, 
on the banks of the Tagus. he overthrew the advanced troops 
of the garrison. But the estuary lay before him, and Mollelos 
was coming up behind. Once more the Miguelists played into 
their opponent's hands. The Duke of Cadaval evacuated 
Lisbon and Terceira occupied the town, where he was joined by 
Napier's squadron. The Emperor took possession at the end 
of July. 

Miguel, who was still before Oporto, at once broke up the 
siege. He did not advance from Coimbra upon Lisbon till the 
fortifications had been sufficiently improved to defy his assault. 
But the country was not yet won, and Pedro's reprisals upon 
the supporters of the late Government did not win friends. In 
spite of the activity of Saldanha in the field the result still 
hung doubtful when assistance arrived which turned the scale. 
Carlos, the Spanish Pretender, had not yet returned from 
his self-imposed exile, and was at the time serving with Miguel 
in Portugal. But already the northern provinces 
of Spain had declared in his favour. Thus, the 
two young queens, Maria and Isabel, were alike 
threatened by the combination of the absolutist claimants, 

150 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

whose cause was already attracting sympathy at the Eastern 
Courts. Palmerston resolved to be first in the field, and to lend 
just enough support to decide the struggle, at any rate as far as 
Portugal was concerned where England could not afford to stand 
neutral. An alliance was concluded with the two Queens early 
in April. From this alliance France, by reason of her old 
interest in Spain and her jealousy of English influence at 
Madrid, was determined not to be excluded. The alliance 
therefore became a Quadruple Alliance. Spain was to send 
an army to Portugal, Portugal was to expel Carlos, the English 
fleet was to be used in the interest of the allies, and French 
help was to be rendered, if necessary, in such a way as the 
signatories might jointly determine (1834). 

The effect on the situation in Portugal was immediate. 
Before the combined forces of Terceira and the Spanish 
general R-odil, Miguel retreated to Evora-Montes, 
Miguel? f where he surrendered under the terms of a con- 
vention, and left Portugal for ever, accompanied 
by Carlos. Four months later his brother and conqueror, the 
ex-Emperor Pedro, died at thirty-five. 

Thus the young Queen began her reign under the provisions 
of her father's Charter of 1826. Under the guidance of her 
minister, de Silveira, the institutions of Portugal 
Maria g n. under were modernised, and an age of constitutional 
rule agitated by party struggles and revolu- 
tions began. In 1836, Maria married as her second husband 
Prince Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg, nephew of the King 
of the Belgians. Later in the same year her old advisers, 
Palmella, Terceira, and Saldanha were overthrown by a party 
calling themselves the Septembrists, who desired to restore 
the constitution of 1822. Once more, in 1842, Pedro's Charter 
was re-established by the efforts of Costa Cabral, and this 
minister ruled the country till 1846 with almost autocratic 
authority. In that year a rebellion broke out which was only 
put down lay the arrival of a British fleet at Lisbon and by the 
operations of a British force against Oporto (1847). 

From this digression from the main narrative we must 

return to the situation in Spain at the accession of Queen 

Isabel. The attempt must be made to furnish the 

SpSshpoi/tics. re ader with some preliminary assistance towards 

understanding the long political strife which raged 

in that distracted country for nearly half a century with all the 

baffling incoherence of comic opera. It must never be forgotten 


under what circumstances Spain first attempted to remodel her 
ancient institutions. The progressive party, by whichever of 
its many names we choose to call it, was born in an atmosphere 
of war and revolution. The leaders were obliged to act or to 
perish with a lamentable lack of experience to guide their 
actions, and their ideas were crude, pedantic, and unpractical. 
By the greatest misfortune Spain presented at the time a free 
field for experiment, and the Constitution of 1812 embodied in 
a concrete form the ideas of the time, and became for a long 
while the palladium of the party. Hence the continuity of an 
unpractical type of statesmanship. Constitutional movements 
had been twice over, in 1814 and 1823, savagely suppressed. 
From this time onwards Spanish politics display an uncom- 
promising party spirit happily unique. Spanish parties, 
outdoing even the stern one-sided dogmatism of the national 
character, fought not to conquer but to annihilate. The day 
came when the throne of an infant queen needed the support 
of the new ideas against all the forces of tradition arrayed under 
the banner of Carlos. But a cordial alliance was never possible. 
The aggressive and destructive character of Spanish Liberalism 
would have reduced the Crown to a shadow, and provoked 
reaction by its attacks on institutions which were part of the 
national life. On the other hand, the progressive groups 
having tasted complete freedom of action could be content 
with nothing less. Hence the third characteristic of Spanish 
history is the oft-recurring combination between the Crown and 
the moderate elements, who found themselves driven into sup- 
porting measures which were not of their choice by the violence 
of the extreme factions. Our own political experience would 
prepare us to expect the early triumph of the popular forces. 
This was not the case in Spain. The progressives won constant 
victories, but were never able to control the government, partly 
because the majority of the nation were apathetic, or per- 
sistently on the other side, partly on account of the enormous 
power of manipulating the elections possessed by the ministry 
in office. Thus it happened that the point of attack for the 
party out of power was always the ministry and not the con- 
stituencies. The normal action of constitutional systems was 
reversed, and the golden rule for success became first to over- 
throw the ministers, afterwards to secure a majority. The 
means of attack lay always ready to hand in the violence of the 
city mobs, usually in sympathy with the extremists, and in the 
so-called pronunciamentos of sections of the army under the 

152 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE ; 1830-1848 

influence of ambitious generals. These were the common 
features of every political crisis. The personal character of 
all these struggles is to be accounted for by the fact that 
those who took part in them looked to the salaries and spoils 
of office for their daily bread, and that changes of Government 
produced changes of personnel in every civil and military 
employment. Lastly, the lack of permanence in party com- 
binations and the tendency to split into faction is explained 
by remembering that the beaten party were scarcely repre- 
sented, owing to the influence exercised at elections, and that 
the victors had none of the stimulus to united action afforded 
by a vigorous opposition. 

If the regent Cristina ever hoped to retain Ferdinand's 
absolute authority the pressure of the Carlist rising soon 
undeceived her. In 1834, she called the mode- 
The R gent ra te Liberal statesman Martinez de la Rosa to 
Boyai statute power, and by his advice proclaimed a constitu- 
tion known as the " Royal Statute." It provided 
for a Parliament of two Chambers, the Upper to consist of 
dignitaries nominated by the Crown, the Lower of " proc- 
tors," appointed in each province by two commissioners, 
themselves elected by the notables of the district. Their 
discussions were limited to matters laid before them by 
Royal authority, and the Regent reserved the right of sum- 
moning and dissolving them at her pleasure. While the 
Chambers violently debated the restrictions thus imposed 
upon them the attention of Europe was concentrated on the 
Carlist war. 

The chief seat of the rising was in the Basque provinces of 
the western Pyrenees, and the ancient kingdom of Navarre. 
These mountainous districts had always enjoyed 
provinces" 6 exceptional privileges known as fueros, and it was 
in defence of these, which they rightly regarded 
as menaced by the levelling and centralising tendencies of the 
recent revolutions, rather than from any personal devotion 
to Carlos, that they had flown to arms. The Spanish customs 
frontier had always been drawn south of their districts, and 
they had thus enjoyed the advantages of free trade with France 
and all the profits of an active smuggling traffic with central 
Spain. Their villages and towns had possessed rights of self- 
government unknown elsewhere in the Peninsula. It was 
clear that bankrupt and distracted Spain would endure such 
exceptions no longer. 


The secluded mountain valleys and difficult passes of the 
country, the active and hardy habits of the people offered all 
the conditions necessary for conducting a success- The Carlist war 
ful guerilla war, and the ideal leader was found 
in Zumalacarregui, formerly a colonel in the Spanish army. 
In league with all the inhabitants, the Carlist bands would 
disappear before the Spanish troops into the fastnesses of the 
hills, to emerge again in some well-conducted raid or disastrous 
surprise. Unable to keep their prisoners they slew all whom 
they caught, and the war was disgraced by hideous reprisals 
on both sides, till a British Commissioner, Lord Elliott, 
succeeded in bringing about a convention which for a while 
imposed some restraint upon such ferocity. Foremost in 
these atrocities was Ramon Cabrera, who had kindled 
rebellion further east in the mountains of Catalonia. 

General after general came against the rebels, failed, and 
was recalled. Invasion in force only led to surprises and 
disasters ; the attempt of Mina to imitate guerilla methods 
was too slow for the patience of the Government ; even the 
defensive blockade of the Ebro failed to protect the loyal 
provinces from desolating raids. The only gleam of success 
in the first two years of the war was the repulse of an attempt 
to capture Bilbao, undertaken against Zumalacarregui 's 
judgment, in which the guerilla chief sustained a mortal 
wound. Harassed at home by the attacks of the Progressistas, 
the Moderado Government at leneth appealed to France 

The French Government approached Palmerston under the 
terms of the Quadruple Alliance. But already divergences had 
made themselves visible between the allies. The 
influence of the French Embassy guided by Louis Attitude of 
Philippe's family relationship with the Regent, rnfnce. 1 a 
had been used on the side of the Moderados, 
while English policy, directed by Palmerston's sympathies, had 
favoured the Progressistas. England was most unwilling to see 
a French invasion of the Peninsula, and Louis Philippe was 
told that if he acted he must act alone. Thiers was still 
urgent for intervention. He had strongly opposed Broglie's 
common action with England in dealing with Mehemet Ali, 
and he suspected, not unjustly, that Palmerston wished to 
secure an advantageous commercial treaty from Spain. But 
the ministers and the King were alike determined to take no 
risks, and France declined to act. 

154 THE ENTENTE CORDIALS, 1830-1848 

Attacked at home and without hope of assistance from 
abroad, the Regent was thus driven to accept the advice of 
the Progressistas. Accordingly they came into 
power in September, under Mendizabal, a self- 
confident financier of Jewish extraction, who was acceptable 
to England. He unhesitatingly declared himself able to avert 
impending bankruptcy and to finish the war by a wholesale 
confiscation of Church property. He was taken at his word, 
but his operations left the State not a penny the richer, and 
he was glad to escape from an impossible situation (1836). 
Meantime, the Carlists, changing their tactics, began a series 
of raids extending almost to the gates of Madrid. 

The fall of Mendizabal had discredited himself, but not his 
party. The attempt of the Regent to keep the Moderados 
in power under Isturiz brought matters to a 
climax. At her summer residence of La Gran j a 
her own bodyguard, under the command of a ser- 
geant named Gomez, dictated terms to their captive mistress, 
and brought her a prisoner to Madrid in the middle of August. 
In the preceding March Thiers had been called to power in 
France, to deliver the King from the tyranny of his Doctrinaire 
ministers. He had warned Palmerston of the intention of 
France to act alone, and he now announced that a French army 
would enter Spain to co-operate against the Carlists. The King 
without a word inserted a contradiction in the official Gazette, 
and the minister resigned in bitter indignation (Sept. 1836). 
Meantime, the victorious party, calling together a Cortes 
under the Constitution of 1812, proved surprisingly conciliatory. 
The new Constitution of 1837 was accepted with 
o?ig7!! tlon the approval of all the wiser heads on both sides, 
providing that the Upper Chamber should be nomi- 
nated by the Regent from a list presented to her, and that the 
Lower should be elected by constituencies of 50,000 persons 
apiece. Yet while the position of the throne had undoubtedly 
been strengthened, the darkest hour for the fortunes of 
Queen Isabel was still to come. Two Carlist expeditions, one 
headed by the Pretender himself, struck resolutely south, 
and concentrated within sight of Madrid. But the city gave 
no sign of welcome, and Carlos, who seems to have expected 
that Cristina would be prepared to come to terms to escape 
from the clutches of her advisers, gave the order to retreat. 

His cause was ruined. He had demonstrated his inability 
to conquer Spain. The Basques were weary of war, and 


hoped to combine the blessings of peace with the retention 
of their prized fueros. The priests and courtiers who sur- 
rounded Carlos thwarted and alienated the men who led 
his armies, and, of these latter, Maroto was already in 
negotiation with Espartero the deliverer of Bilbao, who had 
just restored discipline among the Regent's troops by drastic 
methods. The allegiance of the Carlist general had long been 
wavering. He had shot some of his rivals, and had been 
summoned before Carlos to answer for his conduct. 
He came with his troops at his back, and secured an cSiist wa? 
effusive commendation of his acts which did not 
blind him to his danger. His master having refused to accept 
the mediation of France and England, he took matters into 
his own hands. At Vergara, in August, 1839, he came to 
terms with Espartero. In 1840, Cabrera ; after prolonging a 
desperate resistance, crossed the frontier into France. 

But Cristina's troubles were not over. She had still to 
reckon with the successful general now styled Duke of the 
Victory. His sympathies were known to be 
with the Progressistas, and he had already com- Espartero 
pelled the Government to weaken the forces com- 
manded by his rival ; Narvaez, and ultimately to dismiss him. 
Extremely ambitious, he was irresolute in action, and it was his 
habit never to declare himself till issues were already decided. 
The elections under the new Constitution had produced a 
Chamber which, with one exception, was unanimously " pro- 
gressive," while the ministry belonged to the other party. 
Cristina would willingly have submitted to direction from 
Espartero, but he never moved. She took her own line and 
secured the return of a new chamber of Moderado opinion. To 
guard for all future time against disasters at the polls, it under- 
took to modify the municipal law which controlled the appoint- 
ment of the town councillors who managed the elections. 
Espartero protested, Cristina for the moment hesitated, and 
together they visited Barcelona. But here her mind changed, 
for Espartero showed no wish to stand between her and the 
abusive hostility of the faction which supported him, and she 
signed the modified law. The general, following his instinct, 
" played to the gallery." He resigned all his offices. A 
Junta proclaimed itself at Madrid, and acted in his 
name. Waver as he might between the Regent's jfflBf* 1 f 
orders to repress the rebellion and the Junta's 
invitation to Madrid, he could no longer refuse to declare 

156 THE ENTENTE CORDIALS, 1830-1848 

himself. To Madrid he went, and became in a moment the 
tool of his allies. Rather than submit to their terms, Cristina 
abdicated (Oct., 1840). For three years Espartero was to 
dominate Spanish politics. 

The events in Spain just described had put a severe strain 
on the entente, but since Louis Philippe, in defence of his own 

cautious foreign policy, had rid himself of the 
Ministry of militant Thiers, the activities of his Government 

had been directed into other channels. A period 
began, unfortunately too short to produce permanent results, 
fall of promise for the peace of the country and the stability 
of the dynasty. Guizot had again been called to office, but. 
finding his advice subordinated to that of his colleague 
Mole, made haste to escape from a situation which wounded 
his dignity (March, 1837). For the next two years Mole, 
formerly an official of the Empire and an ex-doctrinaire, 
directed French policy with the cordial co-operation of the 
King. The new minister boldly professed himself an oppor- 
tunist, declaring that " the spirit which should animate a- 
government is one which meets circumstances as they arise 
without regard to prejudices based upon the past." 

The circumstances in which he found himself were, in fact, 
widely different from those of 1830, little as the Doctrinaires 

allowed themselves to recognise the change. The 
dSaSon at n " Re P u blican party had largely abandoned its militant 
home. and pedantic attitude, and had devoted itself to 

the study of social questions and to schemes for 
improving the lot of the working classes. The Legitimists 
had abandoned politics altogether, and were engaged through 
the Church and the Press in promoting new ideals of life and 
character. Mole realised that repression had had its day, 
and boldly set himself to conciliate the old foes of the July 
monarchy. The Republican leaders were amnestied, and 
graceful concessions to religious feeling, such as the re- 
opening of St. Germain 1'Auxerrois. were offered to the 
other party. The growing prosperity of the country seconded 
his schemes. Debt was discharged, and extensive plans of 
railway development and contracts for public works gave 
steady employment to labour. The industrial revolution 
was working for peace. 

While the entente was not abandoned, French influence no 
longer depended upon English co-operation, nor was it exercised 
systematically upon the popular side. France and Austria 


drew together, a combination long desired by Louis Philippe, 
as a check upon Russian menace and English patronage, and 
as a guarantee of the " legitimacy " of the Orleanist monarchy. 
When the Austrian troops withdrew from their advanced 
positions in Italy, the French also withdrew from Ancona. 
French influence was used to good purpose in Greece in support 
of the Government of King Otho, and in the final stage of the 
Belgian question rendered invaluable support to Leopold 
against the extreme claims of Holland. 

Meantime, the minister, who had declared that " the blood 
of Frenchmen was their own," was building up a new Empire 
for France round the nucleus of the foothold 
which Charles X had won in Algiers. The work A 
was carried on in the face of the insistent demand of England for 
evacuation and of much ignorance and ill-will in France, where 
the enterprise was regarded as ai dissipation of energies which 
could have been more gloriously employed in Europe. Ever 
since the report of a commission sent out in 1834, two policies 
had been in the field, that of General Clauzel supported by 
Thiers, which advocated the conquest of the whole country, 
and that adopted by Soult's ministry, which decided to restrict 
permanent settlement to the coast-line. The latter had 
resulted in emboldening the Arabs under Abd-el-Kader, in the 
defeat of the French at Macta (1835), and in a series of ex- 
pensive punitive operations. Mole decided on a compromise. 
With the support of the colonial party the city of Constantino 
was taken ; and Marshal Valee set to work to organise a French 
territory of manageable extent. 

All this while the opposition in the Chamber grew more 
bitter. The political leaders could never forgive Mole for 
rescuing the King from their dictation. Agreed 

iM.Ii i 1 j -LI rt Fall of Mole. 

in little else, they denounced the Grown lor 
personal government and the minister for servility. But to 
raise an outcry for the revival of repression promised small 
success. Aided by the growing popularity of the Napoleonic 
Legend (p. 14), they combined on the question of the 
" National honour." In January, 1839, Mole succeeded in 
repelling an Address to the King on this subject by a narrow 
margin of thirteen, and a dissolution brought back his 
opponents in a majority. The ministry resigned. It was the 
crisis in the fortunes of the July Monarchy. 

The question of the " National honour " was to expose 
France to a rebuff of a kind to which she was peculiarly 

158 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

sensitive. For a long time past the Czar Nicholas had been 
labouring for a good understanding with England He had 
taken pains to deny Russian complicity in a Persian advance on 
Herat, in 1838, and he had sent his son Alexander to England, 
where his gracious personality had made a pleasant impression. 
It had long been clear that the Eastern question was about 
to be reopened in an acute form. The Sultan had never 
forgiven Mehemet All, and there was much to 
attacks"* 11 tempt him to make an effort to recover what he 
Mehemet AH. had lost. His troops had been reorganised under 
German officers, and twice over the surrendered 
Pashaliks had burst into rebellion against the military con- 
scription and the trading monopolies enforced by the 
Egyptians. Fear, and an impending commercial treaty 
between the Sultan and England, impelled Mehemet Ali in 
the same direction. Both sides tried to secure the favour of 
the Powers, both were warned to keep the peace. At last the 
Sultan's hatred outran his discretion. In April, 1839, Hafiz 
Pasha was ordered to cross the Euphrates. 

The Turkish powe* collapsed like a house of cards under 

the combined influence of incompetence and treachery. 

Hafiz was utterly overthrown by Ibrahim at 

disasters Nessib, while Ahmed Pasha carried the fleet to 

Alexandria and surrendered it to Mehemet Ali. 

Mahmoud did not live to see the ruin of his hopes, and the 

advisers of his youthful son Abdul-Mejid at once opened 

negotiations with the victorious Egyptians. France and 

England, however, were cordially united in a determination to 

play such a part in the settlement as might result in diminishing 

the exclusive influence which Russia had enjoyed since Unkiar 

Skelessi. Accordingly, at their instance, all five 

thefpowers Powers drew up a common note announcing that 

they had arrived at a decision, and demanding 

the suspension of hostilities. In reality, of course, the actual 

decision had yet to be made, and Palmerston did well in urging 

that the Powers should avoid possible misunderstandings by 

making all future representations in common. 

Such caution was particularly important in view of the 
divergent opinions of England and France. 
Palmerston justly held that no peace could be 

land for com- durable till Mehemet Ali had been securelv con- 

jnon action. ' -. 'CT , . -, .. T-IT^ 

fined within his Egyptian dominions, while .b ranee 
saw in the development and extension of his rule a desirable 


counterpoise to English sea-power in the Mediterranean. 
Nicholas was quick to notice the divergence. He believed 
that the opportunity for the long-desired understanding had 
come and sent Baron Brunnow to London with proposals 
which surprised Palmerston. The Czar offered to accept any 
reasonable solution that England might propose for the existing 
complication, to abandon the treaty of Unkiar Skelessi, to 
act in concert with the other Powers in his future dealings with 
Turkey, and to sanction the closing of the Bosphorus as well as 
the Dardanelles in time of war, so that Russia should be in no 
better position than others for striking at Constantinople. To 
this understanding Austria, under the terms of Miirichengratz, 
gave her assent, and was followed by Prussia. 

It remained to be seen what France would do ; and, since 
she was clearly in disagreement with the understanding arrived 
at, her best course would have been to retract her 
adhesion to the original joint note and to retire. j^anS? 6 f 
Instead of doing so she proceeded to strive for 
terms which were utterly opposed to the principles which the 
other Powers accepted. Nevertheless, attempts were made 
to secure her co-operation. Palmerston suggested the addition 
of the province of Acre, but without the fortress, to the Pasha's 
Egyptian dominions ; he proposed a conference of the Five 
Powers to reopen the whole discussion ; he was prepared in 
the last resort to accept the Austrian suggestion to concede 
the fortress of Acre itself. France was irreconcilable, and her 
action became all the more decisive from the moment that 
Thiers came into office, eager for a diplomatic triumph, and 
confident that the Powers were not in a position to coerce 
Ibrahim. Clearly he should now have broken with the Allies 
and have all owed matters to take their course. He did not do so. 

As a result he soon found himself in an extremely false 
position. Khosrew, the Grand Vizier, Mehemet Ali's old 
enemy, had fallen from power, and the event 

* i j "T* i T j. j. Action ofThiers. 

encouraged the Pasha to open direct negotiations 
for a settlement with Constantinople through the French 
Consul-General. This action Thiers was misguided enough 
to approve, and directed Guizot, the ambassador in London, 
to gain time, while empowering him to deny French connection 
with the negotiations. 

Never was statesman more effectively hoist with his own 
petard. Guizot had to listen indignantly to what he described as 
a " mortal affront." Palmerston read him a long statement 

160 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

setting forth that in consequence of the action of France the 
other Powers had been obliged to act alone. France had to all 
intents and purposes been banished from the council-table 
of Europe. It is difficult to give an idea of the 
Pari3 fever in excitement at Paris. War fever rose to a danger- 
ous height, military preparations were actively 
begun, while Thiers was loudly appealing to the memories of 
the Revolution and of the Empire, and threatening to tear in 
pieces the settlement of 1815. Once more the habitual caution 
of Louis Philippe preserved the peace, but this time at the risk 
of the stability of his throne. He declared himself unable to 
adopt the language in which his minister had couched the 
King's speech to the Chambers. Thiers instantly resigned, 
and from that moment, in spite of much wild talk, the crisis 
was at an end. 

Meantime, the Allies had made haste to deal with Mehemet 
Ali. By the Convention of London, he was to have Egypt 
as a hereditary pashalik, with the addition of 
The Powers im- Syria and of Acre along with its fortress if he sub- 
MehemTliT mitted in ten days. Relying upon French aid, he 
answered with c: jaunty refusal. It was then seen 
how ill Thiers had calculated the Egj^ptian power of resistance. 
Beirout was bombarded, and its fall was the signal for all 
Syria to break into revolt. Acre surrendered to the Allies, 
and in November Admiral Napier appeared before Alexandria 
and forced the unwilling Pasha to accept the Convention, 
by which he was recognised as hereditary ruler of Egypt, 
while he was deprived of all his Syrian conquests. 

The Powers, anxious to save the face of France, now signed 
a Protocol setting forth the closure of the incident, and having 
done so, invited Louis Philippe to join in adhering to the 
" Convention of the Straits " by which the Dardanelles and 
the Bosphorus were to be closed to ships of war (1842). 

Nevertheless, for the moment the incident seemed to have 
altered the balance of Europe. The entente appeared to be 
dead, while the future seemed to hold out the hope of a mutual 
understanding between England and Russia. 


IN the midst of the fierce national spirit called out by the crisis 
of 1840 and the excited patriotic harangues of the Chamber, the 
July Monarchy appeared to be already tottering to 
its fall . Nevertheless, though materially weakened 
by the convulsion, the fabric was to stand yet another eight; 
years, and to collapse under the impact of very different 
forces. The King had, in fact, succeeded in setting the 
apparent wishes of the nation and of his advisers at defiance. 
That he was able to do so was due to the fact that the 
bourgeoisie, who constituted the electorate and commanded the 
majority in the Chambers, could not afford to push their 
difference of opinion with the monarchy to extremes, without 
playing into the hands of the Republican party and bringing 
about the drastic political revolution from which the accession 
of Louis Philippe had originally secured them. Beneath a 
cloud of brave words Soult's ministry followed the King's 
pacific policy, and when Guizot came into power later in the 
year its permanence was assured. 

Nevertheless, in fact, if not in appearance. Louis Philippe 
had not dictated his own terms. He had been a party to a 
bargain in which he had surrendered as much as ^ afa ^ 
he had gained. Already, in 1839, he had been tween the crown 
forced to abandon Mole, and with him any S^ r s ? pertied 
attempt at conciliating disaffected elements at 
home. The crisis of the succeeding year made his renuncia- 
tion final. Measures directed to the relief of working-class 
discontent were not to be looked for from his new advisers ; 
and any attempt to enlarge the franchise or to alter the 
balance of political power (changes which alone could force 
them to modify their attitude), promised at the same time to 
bring his government under the influence of forces tending to 
impel it in the direction of the adventurous foreign policy 
\\ hich he dreaded. Advancing years, moreover, had weakened 


162 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

his will, and a growing absorption in the prospects of his family 
had dulled his personal interest in affairs of State. 

Thus, on a superficial view, the situation of 1830 seemed to 
have come back. The Bang and the propertied classes were 

necessary to one another. Never, perhaps, were 
arch Jl no JoiTer ^ e y more so ; f or a glance below the surface will 
fndispensaSS er reveal the fact that neither the person of the King 

nor the policy of the dominant party was any longer 
necessary to the country. In 1830 Louis Philippe had seemed to 
stand between France and the violent interference of Europe in 
her internal affairs, an interference prompted by the nervous 
dread of a second outburst of revolutionary doctrine propa- 
gated by the sword. Ten years had served to calm the fears 
on both sides. The crisis of 1830 had left the settlement of 
Vienna intact, belying all the gloomy forebodings of con- 
temporaries, while the conduct of the Powers ever since, and 
especially at the critical period of the Eastern Question, had 
made it evident to all thoughtful Frenchmen that no inter- 
ference was to be expected in the internal affairs of France. 
Even in her dealings with questions of foreign policy a con- 
siderable measure of forbearance could be counted upon ; 
while anything like a standing combination against her had 
long ceased to exist. 

Thus, the time seemed to have come when the nation 
might reassert its former position in Europe, and with the 

opportunity there had come the definite wish to 
"Lagioire"wcid do so. Time had blurred the harsh features of 

the Napoleonic . , --.- , -n , -i i i j_i 

legend. the Napoleonic Era, its glories only shone the 

more golden through the mists. The audacious 
misrepresentation of history, which had its origin in the 
conversations of the Emperor at St. Helena, was being popular- 
ised by the pen of Thiers in his " History of the Consulate and 
of the Empire," and inspired much of the poetry of Victor 
Hugo, Lamartine, and Beranger. Even the government paid 
homage to the Napoleonic cult, and it was with their full 
consent that in 1840 the remains of the national hero were 
brought back to France and solemnly interred beneath the 
dome of the Invalides. Frenchmen saw in Mehemet All the 
successor to Napoleon's Egyptian policy, and in England the 
traditional enemy intent on depriving them for the second 
time of a foothold in the East. Men of spirit dreamed dreams 
of the Rhine and of the Nile, and cursed the dullness and 
caution of their rulers. 


Yet to dullness and to caution their rulers were bound by 
iron necessity. To stand alone meant inglorious inaction or 
revolutionary activity. The nation would not 
tolerate the one, the government dared not risk government 
the other. The choice of allies was limited, entente. 
Nicholas would have no dealings with a revolu- 
tionary government, even if the French people could have 
ever consented to touch the hand of the oppressor of Poland. 
Austria, tied to her engagements with the Czar and w r ith Prussia, 
and weakened by increasing embarrassments, had little of 
advantage to offer, and any understanding with her must 
carry with it the virtual renunciation by France of all claim 
to interfere in Italy. There remained England. Allied with 
England, France avoided the slur of isolation, while retaining 
her independence. No definite agreement was required of her, 
only an understanding, but an understanding most fatal in 
the sequel to the popularity of the government who promoted 
it, for it was required of France that she should act with just 
that caution which in her existing mood she found insuffer- 
able. " La France s'ennuie," said Lamartine, and in France 
such symptoms were ominous. 

Even in its home policy and in the eyes of the classes whose 
interests were its exclusive study, the principles of the 
Orleanist regime appeared to have lost the im- 
perative necessity which they had seemed to indifference of 

,1 i e /-* - -r ' mi L propertied 

wear in the days of Casimir Perier. The security classes. 
of the propertied classes had dulled their sense 
of personal concern in the barriers which guarded their 
monopoly of power. The teaching of the new Ultramontane 
Catholicism which looked to Rome, separated at length from 
the exiled dynasty, was winning its way among the well- 
to-do and dividing them in sympathy from a government 
which maintained the Concordat, and which, by retaining the 
State control of education, bore hardly upon all teaching of a 
distinctively religious character. Yet another section, occu- 
pied exclusively in the new opportunities for money-making 
opened up by the rapid industrial development of the country, 
had come to treat politics with indifference as the province of 
professional politicians. 

Outside the charmed circle of the electorate there was 
discontent enough. The smaller bourgeoisie, who had shared 
in the general prosperity, were beginning to resent their 
exclusion, and possessed a weapon which could not fail to 

164 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

be dangerous if party strife should pass from the Chambers 
to the street. For from this class the National Guard was 
principally recruited. It was a sign of the times 
that the smau Republican minority among the 
deputies led by Odilon Barrot, abandoning extreme 
claims for the time being, was throwing all its energies into 
a demand for an extension of the franchise. To our present 
ways of thinking it may appear that the government in reject- 
ing the demand threw away a golden opportunity of founding 
their system on a broader basis. In reality, at home as well 
as abroad, they were in the grasp of a compelling fate. They 
dared not lower the franchise, for if they did, what became of 
the boasted perfection of their " Just Mean," their ideal 
compromise between despotism and democracy ? A new 
arrangement could scarcely be declared perfect in its turn, 
and once altered, why should not the system be altered again ? 
Hitherto we have spoken as though the deputies within 
the Chamber itself were tolerably unanimous. This was very 
far from being the case. Opposed to the group 
Rivalry of known as the Right Centre, which supported 
Thiers tan Guizot and the government, was the Left Centre, 
or following of Thiers. Divided more by personal 
rivalries than by any other cause, neither of the two leaders 
gained a compact and steady following in the Chamber, while 
both bid for the support of a neutral and unenterprising majority 
known as the Ventre legislatif, which could never make up its 
mind to abandon Guizot's policy of peace, while sympathising 
with and even supporting Thiers in his denunciations of 
particular surrenders of national prestige. It is not surprising 
that Thiers came gradually to seek more whole-hearted allies 
in the Extreme Left, encouraging their demand for an extended 
franchise, while Guizot, Protestant as he was, fell back upon 
the support of the Catholic Right, and held out hopes of 
greater liberty for education on religious lines. To the 
venire he could offer more solid attractions in the shape of 
posts in government service, and ill-disguised corruption 
became more and more the mainstay of his authority. 

But when at length the catastrophe arrived it was not any 

one of the elements of opposition yet noticed which generated 

the force sufficient to overthrow the mined and 

nodding structure. We are now to witness the 

operation of the first wave of those new tides which the 

Industrial Revolution had set flowing round the base of 


ancient political coasts. Here in Paris, for the first time and 
for the moment only, the socialistic ideal appears as a power 
for statesmen to reckon with. 

The changes which have been traced in our third chapter 
had created two new classes, the wage-earning artisans and 
the capitalists, and the contemplation of either of these 
sections of society gave to thoughtful and sympathetic minds 
matter for serious uneasiness. The squalid and miserable 
surroundings in which the life of the one was passed, inten- 
sified from time to time by periods of unemployment or low 
wages, during which the sacrifice of all that made human 
life worth living failed even to secure the bare means of 
subsistence, aroused a passionate conviction that these men 
and women had the right to exist, and to exist under conditions 
less intolerable. The growing wealth of the other class, often 
the result of no visible personal effort, stirred an indignant 
dissatisfaction at the unfairness of the advantages which it 
derived from enterprises in which both capital and labour 
played their part, and awoke the demand that the workers 
should enjoy a proportionate share of what their toil had 
helped to win. And with a growing sense of the helplessness 
of such sympathies in the grasp of economic law, the feeling 
spread that these evils were due to a faulty organisation of 
society, organised long since in a manner quite unsuited to 
the conditions of the new age. This conviction has then and 
since given birth to the counter-claim that society should be 
reorganised on lines which take account of little else save the 
conditions of industrial production. 

It is unnecessary to say that schemes for the redistribution 
of the material advantages of life according to some rule of 
ideal justice, instead of leaving them to the 
operation of chance and of self-interest, are well- 
nigh as old as the world itself. They have been 
very various in character, and it would serve no purpose to 
trace back their history beyond the commencement of our 
period. During the Revolution Baboeuf had proposed thato 
all property should be transferred to the State, and had paid] 
for a suggestion so little in accord with the ideas of the time 
with his head. But the socialistic views of the first quarter 
of the nineteenth century were of a very different type. They 
were for the most part the conceptions of thinkers and 
philanthropists, and addressed themselves to the reason and 
to sentiments of benevolence. They differed from later 

166 THE ENTENTE CORDIALS, 1830-1848 

theories in two important respects. Their authors did not 
for the most part contemplate a complete reconstruction of 
society at large, but only a transformation of industrial 
relations, in which the claims of labour were to receive a fair 
recognition side by side with capital. Moreover, this result 
was to be achieved rather by attracting the spontaneous 
support of the wealthy than by the compulsory action of the 
State. The generous-minded French nobleman, St. Simon, 
who died in 1825, did indeed demand that the State should 
undertake the formation and control of associations in which 
a proper share of the rewards of industry should be assured 
to all who took part, but he laid great stress upon the work of 
the Church in winning over mankind to a new view of the 
duties owed to their fellows. His younger contemporaries, 
Fourier in France, and Robert Owen, a self-made manufacturer, 
in England, distrusted State interference altogether. The 
former looked to the voluntary combination of groups of 
families, which he called " phalanxes," to be brought into 
existence with the help of benevolent capitalists. They were 
to own in common all the means of production, and to produce 
among themselves all that their members could require. The 
results of their combined efforts were to be shared according to 
a fixed proportion, a due reward being allotted to the labourer, 
to the capitalist, and to the directors of labour severally. 
Owen's plans were very similar. He had already started in 
his own factories at New Lanark all manner of institutions 
for the education, comfort, and recreation of his workpeople, 
as well as an arrangement by which each received a share of 
the general profits of his ventures. He rested his hopes for 
the future on the gradual division of the country into " paralle- 
lograms," within each of which every man would share in the 
ownership of all that was necessary to common enterprises, 
would contribute his capacity to the common efforts and share 
in the fruits of the common toil. 

It is not surprising, then, that springing from such begin- 
nings socialistic demands had as yet made no appearance in the 

field of practical politics. But another school of 
propaganda. opinion was coming into being during the thirties 

and forties, animated by a new bitterness against 
the existing framework of society, and holding much more 
uncompromising views, of which Proudhon's assertion that " all 
property is theft," and Leroux's demand for complete state 
ownership are fair examples. These theorists, propagating 


their doctrines through pamphlets and reviews, were far 
from being either consistent or definite in their principles. 
Their work had, however, another side. Addressing them- 
selves to the working classes they set forth in fragmentary 
suggestions a whole programme of benefits to be secured for 
labour, which, taken together, includes almost all that their 
successors have since demanded. These were caught up and 
discussed in such secret societies as that of " The Seasons." 
But among all who professed such doctrines, there 
was but one prominent politician, Louis_Jllanc, L 
and it was through his articles in La Reforme. and ultimately 
through his practical efforts, that the claims of the working 
classes were presented in the form of " the Right to Work," 
and the " Organisation of Industry." 

Of these underground workings the government took small 
account. The crisis of 1840 and the heartburnings which it 
left behind made the question of foreign policy 
the one question of paramount interest in the Sai C probfem. 
Chamber. Guizot loudly 'charged Thiers Avith 
having brought humiliation upon France by his aggressive 
policy, while he himself sought small occasions for proving to 
the country that the ministry were eager for the maintenance 
of the national honour. On each of these occasions he found 
in Thiers an unscrupulous critic, ever ready to declare that 
the credit of France was being sacrificed to a policy of peace 
at any price, and striving to push the ministry beyond the 
bounds of prudence. 

The conclusion of a new convention dealing with the Right 
of Search, exercised by war vessels for the suppression of the 
slave trade, put the government at an initial 
disadA-antage. In 1830 France and England had 
agreed to concede this right to one another, stipu- 
lating that it should be exercised by a like number of vessels 
commissioned by either Power, with the object of limiting any 
preponderance which the size of her navy might give to England. 
It was now suggested that the other three great Powers should 
become parties to the arrangement, and a new ConA r ention was 
drafted accordingly ; but, as Prussia possessed practically no 
fleet at all, it was no longer possible, by putting a limitation 
upon the number of ships detailed for the service by each 
Power, to secure at once efficient action and equality of 
authority. The new convention therefore proposed no limit 
upon the number of ships to be employed by any of the parties 

168 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

to the agreement. It was accordingly represented as a 
betrayal of French maritime influence to England, and Guizot 
was forced by the attitude of the Chamber to promise that it 
should not be ratified (1842). 

In domestic affairs he was for the time being well able to 
hold his own. His immense scheme for railway construction, 
by which, while the State acquired the land for the enter- 
prise, the actual laying and working of the lines was left to 
private companies, won him the support of the classes repre- 
sented in the Chamber. It is true that he failed to realise the 
danger of connecting Paris with the other centres of industrial 
discontent, but this danger was not to become serious for 
many years. 

Before the year 1842 was out the government had weathered 
a second crisis. The Duke of Orleans, the heir to the throne, 

met his death by an accident, and it was evident 
queson? ncy that on the demise of Louis Philippe, a Regency 

would be necessary during the childhood of his 
grandson. The case had not been provided for by the changes 
of 1830, and the government proposed to allow the Salic Law, 
designating the nearest male, under the Charter of 1814, to 
hold good. Thiers would willingly have opposed, but his 
hands were tied. If one article of the Charter could be revised 
so could all, and the " Just Mean," which he no less than 
Guizot was concerned in defending, might perish in the process. 
But Guizot was well aware that it was by his foreign 
policy that he would be judged in the Chamber, and it was by 

his foreign policy that he was determined to 
Sage 'scheme", justify his government. He now directed all his 

energies to the revival of the " Entente Cordiale," 
with a great dynastic and diplomatic triumph for France in view. 
This was nothing less than the marriage of the young Queen 
of Spain to a French prince. Without the friendly neutrality 
of England the enterprise would be difficult, but he believed 
it to be not impossible to secure the goodwill of the English 
Foreign Minister, Lord Aberdeen. For the moment, however, 
the situation in Spain was not encouraging. Never had 
French influence stood lower at Madrid. The revolution which 
had driven Queen Cristina, always well-disposed towards Louis 
Philippe, from the Regency (p. 155), had left the face of the 
country dotted with the independent insurrectionary juntas in 
which, from the time of the Napoleonic occupation, popular 
commotion had normally expressed itself. The junta at 


Madrid bad succeeded through the able lawyer, Manuel Cortina, 
in securing the countenance of the popular military hero of 
the hour, General Baldomero Espartero, round whose great 
name it was hoped that all the ill-led and 
divergent local factions might be induced to 
rally. This was precisely the part which the 
general's own self -importance arid his inability or unwillingness 
to give a definite lead made particularly acceptable to him. 
By his aid the juntas were gradually induced to give place to 
the provisional authority of the progressist ministry which the 
Regent had recently accepted, not without some heart-burning 
on the part of the more uncompromising spirits. It would 
have been well if a similar process of painless extinction could 
have been applied to the greater part of the army, which 
drained the resources of the State and shared with the local 
juntas an evil pre-eminence among the agencies of revolution. 
But while it was easy enough to discharge the rank and file, 
the authorities had bound themselves to employ those Carlist 
officers who had submitted, and could scarcely deal less 
generously with their own supporters. Well aware how 
grudgingly the burden of their pay was endured, these officers 
were ready for any enterprise which might secure their position 
against retrenchment. 

As soon as the Cortes met, the question of the Regency 
came up for decision, and revealed a wide difference of opinion 
between the authors of the revolution and their military 
protector. A commission of three was proposed and was in- 
dignantly rejected by Espartero. He could not yet be spared, 
and in face of his threat to withdraw entirely from politics, he 
had his wish, and was installed as sole Regent 
(May, 1841). ' Eager to enjoy the reality as well 
as the appearance of power, he accepted the 
resignation of the ministers, and chose his advisers among 
men who had played no great part in the recent movement. 
His action was singularly unwise. He succeeded at the same 
time in alienating Cortina and some of his ablest supporters, 
and in assuming a more direct and personal responsibility for 
difficulties which might well have appalled a man of much 
greater insight and more resolute purpose than himself. 

Of these, much the most serious was the uncompromising 
attitude of Queen Cristina. She had taken refuge in France, 
where she enjoyed the unconcealed sympathy of the govern- 
ment, and had lost no time in issuing a passionate protest 

170 THE ENTENTE CORDIALS, 1830-1848 

against the proceedings which had separated her from her 
daughter. Her line of attack against the new Regency was 

cleverly chosen. Her claim to stand by the side of 
CrisS? f ner c hM appealed to elementary human instincts, 

and the revolutionary government confessed 
its own weakness when it surrounded the unhappy Isabel, to 
guard her against rival influences, with tutors and governors 
of unimpeachable progressist views, under whose forbidding 
rectitude the wayward girl fretted. It was soon perfectly 
clear that the authority of Espartero and his advisers depended 
upon retaining in their own hands the person of the sovereign 
in whose name they professed to act, and might be overturned 
at any moment by rescuing her from their clutches. The 
agents for such an enterprise were easily to be found in the 
army. Already in several places ill-managed military out- 
breaks had taken place, and in October, 1841, General Concha 

ventured upon the bold attempt to carry Isabel 
Attempt to off from her residence on the western outskirts 
Queen! 1 of Madrid under cover of the night. He had 

actually succeeded in penetrating into the palace, 
and had nearly beaten down the unexpected resistance of the 
handful of pensioners who were on duty, when the appearance 
of the "National Militia," or citizen guard of Madrid, forced him 
to beat a hasty retreat. It was through no energy or foresight 
on the part of Espartero that the enterprise had miscarried. 

Menaced by the continual plots which were hatched across 
the French frontier, the Regent was forced to lean more and 
more upon English support. The connection was, however, as 
much a source of weakness as of strength, and served to arouse 
the suspicion of the very classes upon whose support his power 
rested. England eagerly desired a favourable commercial 
treaty under which her manufactured goods might find a 

market in Spain. Such a treaty could not fail 
Espa a rtero f to ^ e injurious to the interests of native industry, 

and was a constant source of apprehension to 
employers and employed, more especially as primitive Spanish 
methods could not hope to compete with the fully developed 
factory system of Great Britain. 

Equally unfortunate were the measures which were 

dictated by the financial necessities of the new 
Some* 1 with government. Monastic property had already been 

confiscated and sold. The State now swooped upon 
the property of the secular clergy. Rome had never actually 


recognised Queen Isabel, and relations were already strained 
when a protest against some of the details of the new measure 
by the Papal representative led to his expulsion, followed by 
an open quarrel with his master. Gregory XVI thereupon 
declared every limitation which had been put upon the rights 
and privileges of the Church to be null and void. This formal 
condemnation of the government by Rome alienated another 
large body of Spanish opinion. 

One of the problems bequeathed by the Carlist War Avas 
the question of the retention or abolition of the Fueros or 
privileges of the Basques. For the satisfactory 
settlement of this question Espartero, as the Treatment of 
officer who had concluded the convention of districts. 
Vergara, had made himself peculiarly responsible. 
The Convention itself had given no guarantees, but the general 
had promised that all local rights should at least receive 
favourable consideration. It had been finally decided that the 
Fueros should be respected so far as they were consistent with 
national unity. That they were highly inconsistent with the 
working of a centralised government was soon apparent, and 
again and again they were disregarded in detail. Disorder 
became rife, and it was only the strict injunctions which Carlos 
had given to his partisans that they were to do nothing to 
favour the cause of Queen Cristina which prevented a general 
revolt. Espartero was obliged to leave Madrid to deal with 
the situation. He had determined to use the recent disturb- 
ances as a pretext for extricating himself from an ambiguous 
position between his obligations to the disaffected provinces, and 
the expectations of the dominant party in Madrid. At Vittoria, 
he published a decree making a clean sweep of the bulk of the 
provincial: privileges. The local Parliaments lost most of 
their powers, the administration was assimilated to that of 
the rest of Spain, and the customs frontier was drawn along 
the line of the Pyrenees (1841). Welcomed effusively at 
Madrid as the " Peacemaker," Espartero had won for himself 
in the northern provinces the steady and undying hatred 
reserved for a false friend. He had not even served his country 
at the cost of his personal popularity. The second Carlist 
War was the direct result of his precipitate and one-sided 

The Regent's failure to act as a moderating influence 
between contending forces was still more conclusively demon- 
strated in his dealings with Catalonia. In this province the 

172 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

spirit of local independence was as strong as in the Basque 
regions. But while the latter found the policy pursued at 
Madrid too modern and democratic for their tastes, the city 

of Barcelona, within whose walls Catalan feeling 
cataionfa! n assumed a form unusual even in the neighbouring 

country districts, condemned the central govern- 
ment as retrograde and despotic. Its busy seafaring and 
industrial life, its close connection with France, the discontent 
which had resulted from the loss of the Spanish-American 
markets, disposed the people to extreme political and social 
views, and strengthened a desire for freedom to determine 
their own destinies which had been conspicuous alike in the war 
of the Spanish Succession and in their half-hearted opposition 
to Napoleon. The revolution which had brought Espartero 
to power had raised the highest hopes only to occasion bitter 
disappointment. A republic and practical independence were 
as far off as ever, while the dreaded commercial treaty with 
Great Britain seemed nearer. Other influences were at work. 
The withdrawal of Cristina's pension and the demand for her 
removal from France had deeply offended Louis Philippe. 
The French ambassador was removed from Madrid, and 
wherever a French Consul was to be found he became an active 
agent in fomenting discontent. Lesseps, at Barcelona, was 
the most active of them all. Encouraged by the temporary 
absence of its captain-general, Van Halen, who had been sent 
to suppress one of the movements in favour of Cristina, the 
city elected a local junta, and set about a scheme of town- 
improvement which involved the demolition of part of the 
citadel. The return of the garrison put a stop to these doings, 
and popular discontent smouldered, till the proclamation of 
martial law, as the result of a trifling commotion, led to 
a general outbreak in which Van Halen was driven to 
take refuge behind his fortifications. Rural Catalonia, 
however, did not stir, and the disorder would probably 
have subsided as easily as on the previous occasion had not 
the persona] intervention of Espartero given it a significance 
more than locaL 

The Regent was acutely conscious that public opinion 
blamed him for a lack of initiative and determination in 
dealing with the risings of Cristina's partisans, and he intended 
to take advantage of the disturbances at Barcelona to show 
that his resolution had been misjudged. He failed entirely 
to lay to heart the ominous recommendation of the Cortes 


that he should make use of " legal measures." Rejecting all 
overtures from the rebels he subjected the city 
to a day's bombardment, which secured an im- 
mediate submission (Dec. 1842). But to the 
already alienated democratic leaders at Madrid the measures, 
which they would have applauded if directed against re- 
actionary Cristinos, were highly offensive when applied to 
Catalan democrats. There was nothing, indeed, to prevent 
their ultimate application to themselves. They determined 
at all costs to overthrow the Regency. 

In a newly-elected Cortes a resolution was carried con- 
demning martial law. This was practically a vote of censure 
upon Espartero. A general amnesty was granted to all 
political exiles, which was no less than an open invitation to 
all his enemies (May, 1843). It was in vain that he dismissed 
the Lopez ministry, equally in vain that he dis- 
solved the Cortes when they refused to recognise f^ 1 of Espar ' 
his action. With a unanimity which made an 
appeal to violence unnecessary, the juntas all over Spain 
declared against the Regent. The military chiefs of Cristina's 
party, Narvaez, Concha, and others, landed at the ports and 
were welcomed by the discontented officers of the army. 
After a week or two of painful hesitation and a futile recourse 
to pathetic proclamations, Espartero at length set out to 
reduce Andalusia to submission, leaving his enemies free 
to march into Madrid. Failing to take Seville and rejected 
by Cadiz, he took refuge on board a British man-of-war, 
and disappeared for the time being from Spanish politics 
(July, 1843). 

The events just narrated had gone a long way to forward 
Guizot's dynastic schemes. In return for Louis Philippe's 
support, Cristina had consented to serve his 
ambitions, and to sanction the marriage of her jSSS^rSs" 8 
two daughters, Isabel and Luisa, to the Dukes gjjjjjj Louis 
of Aumale and Montpensier. Palmerston, how- 
ever, had objected, and had secured the disavowal of the pro- 
ject in return for an assurance that England on her side would 
do nothing to push the claims of Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, 
Queen Victoria's cousin. Guizot was unable to obtain 
Palmerston's assent to a modification of his proposal by which 
the marriage of the younger sister to the Duke of Montpensier 
was to take place without delay, while Isabel's future remained 
undecided. Not till the succession was assured could England 

174 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

view with equanimity the union of the heiress presumptive to 
a French prince. 

The advent of a Tory ministry to power in 1841 under the 
guidance of Peel, suggested fresh possibilities. Apart from a 
promise of commercial advantages, which seemed as far off as 
ever, the new ministry were not very likely to set much store by 
the friendship of Spanish progressistas. And, when the fall of 
Espartero put an end for the moment to British influence at 
Madrid, it seemed not impossible to secure a unanimity of 
action between England and France very favourable to the 
interests of the latter. 

Accordingly, in 1843, during a State visit paid by Queen 
Victoria and the Prince Consort to Louis Philippe at the 
Ch teau d'Eu, it was agreed that Isabel should 
^ e ^ ree ^ cnoose a husband from the Spanish 
branch of the Bourbons, and that as soon as an 
heir to the throne should be born the Montpensier marriage 
should take place. Thus was the restoration of the Entente 
Cordiale proclaimed to the world. 

Guizot had now secured an initial advantage, and hoped 
to lead Lord Aberdeen, who controlled the Foreign Office, 
Tahiti s *^ further in the direction of his great scheme. 

He was, however, sorely embarrassed by the 
constant attempts of Thiers to force him, in the alleged 
interests of the " national honour," to inflict petty annoyances 
upon the patience of his ally. In 1842, Admiral Dupetit 
Thouars had induced Pomare, Queen of Tahiti, to sign an 
agreement which virtually placed the island under the protection 
of France. The English Consul, a missionary named Pritchard, 
on whose advice Pomare relied, had been absent at the time 
of the treaty, and succeeded on his return in inspiring the 
Queen with great dissatisfaction with what had been done. 
The Admiral proceeded to simplify the situation by a formal 
annexation and the expulsion of Pritchard. His action was 
eventually disavowed, but not before loud recriminations had 
been exchanged between the allied nations over what Louis 
Philippe justly styled " ces betises Tahitiennes." Similar 
indignation was excited in France by the consent of the 
government to abandon an adventurous policy in Morocco 
in deference to British susceptibilities. 

In the meantime, affairs in Spain had been marching 
steadily in the direction of Guizot's hopes. The overthrow 
of Espartero was the work of a coalition of three not very 


harmonious elements. The Court party, which looked for 
guidance to Queen Cristina, the Moderado partisans, who 
wished to undo the revolution of 1840, and the 
Progressistas, who had resented the Regent's auto- f n p f gjg parties 
cratic methods, were all able to combine in hostility 
to his person. Their agreement extended no further, and 
their real incompatibility was immediately displayed in their 
one unanimous act. To avoid the inevitable disputes to 
which the appointment of a new regent would give rise, Isabel's 
majority, fixed by law at the age of fourteen, was ante-dated 
by a year, and she was declared to have entered upon her full 
royal authority. But the victorious factions could not yet 
afford to quarrel, and, by a sort of tacit understanding, each 
proceeded to establish itself firmly on the ground it already 
occupied. After the usual series of dismissals and appoint- 
ments, which characterised every revolution in Spain, the 
Court party found themselves installed about the Queen's 
person ; the Moderado officers and politicians controlled the 
army, the local governorships, and the Senate ; while a pro- 
gressist ministry under Olozaga, Isabel's late tutor, assumed 
office with the support of the majority in the Lower House of 
the Cortes. 

It was soon apparent that the real gainers by the revolution 
were the more reactionary elements. The majority in the 
Lower House dwindled, and Olozaga's task in 
preventing the complete reversal of all that had 
been done during the last three years became 
daily more difficult. Accordingly, he visited the Queen to 
procure her signature to a decree dissolving the Cortes. What 
actually passed will never be known. Under the influence of 
her personal attendants, Isabel told a strange and incredible 
story to the effect that her minister had locked the door and 
set his back against it, and had extracted her signature by 
actual violence. His dismissal and disgrace immediately 
followed, and his place was taken by Gonzalez Bravo, an 
ex- journalist, who had made himself conspicuous by his 
attacks on Cristina, and by publishing to the world her 
secret marriage with a corporal of the Royal Guard, named 
Muiioz. He was now ready to atone for his past by the 
utmost servility, restoring her pension, making her hus- 
band a duke, and securing her return to Spain. But the 
Court faction could not stand alone. It needed the sup- 
port of public opinion and the services of a stronger man. 

176 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

In 1844, General Ramon Narvaez undertook to form a 

Narvaez deserves more credit than he has generally 
received from historians. His short, stiff figure and his stern, 
silent personality were little calculated to win 
Narvaez n ^ m popularity. But he had a real preference for 

good government, and was alike opposed to the 
intrigues of the Court and the factiousness of the democratic 
party. He had none of Espartero's fatal vanity, and was, 
above all, disinterested. It will scarcely be disputed that he 
was right in thinking that Spain needed nothing so much as 
discipline. He was indeed a disciplinarian to the backbone, 
and it must be freely admitted that his methods were drastic. 
An apocryphal story relates that on his death-bed, being urged 
by his confessor to forgive his enemies, he replied that to do so 
was impossible, for he had shot them every one. That his 
name is now connected with mere repression was not entirely 
his fault. The Moderado groups which he protected never 
succeeded in organising an effective party. He was constantly 
called to power by the Court to save a hopeless situation, only 
to find himself shaken off when the storm had passed and his 
masterful personality began to be felt as a restriction upon 
corruption and intrigue. 

He now set himself to secure a greater stability in the affairs 
of the country. The finance minister, Mon, introduced a new 
and more scientific system of taxation, which, 
while it was the source of much discontent, did 
something towards relieving the growing burden of 
debt. Through official pressure and owing to the abstention of 
the opposing party an overwhelming majority was procured in 
the new Cortes, one member only styling himself a progressive. 
Unhampered by opposition, Narvaez was able to proceed to a 
fresh revision of the Constitution. The Constitution of 1845 
provided that the members of the Upper House should be 
nominated by the Crown, and established a property qualifica- 
tion for a seat in the Lower House. While thus attempting to 
secure the preponderance of Moderado elements in the Cortes, 
it aimed at putting a check upon the instruments of revolution 
outside by leaving any enrolment of " National Militia " 
entirely to the option of the local governors appointed from 
Madrid; and by considerable restrictions upon the freedom of 
the Press. Concessions were even offered to Rome in return 
for the recognition of Queen Isabel's title and of the sales of 


Church property, which were not, however, immediately 

The critical moment for Guizot's scheme had now arrived. 
In the restoration of Cristina's influence in Spain he saw his 
opportunity, but realised that favourable con- 
ditions could not be of long duration. The Tory 
ministry in England was tottering, and he knew 
that he could count on the determined opposition of 
Palmerston. Meantime, Thiers had secured the votes of the 
Left under Odilon Barrot by a promise to support an extension 
of the franchise, and was already in correspondence with 
Palmerston. Guizot for the moment maintained his position 
by guaranteeing the freedom of religious education to the 
Catholic Right in return for their support, and pressed on his 
negotiations at Madrid for the marriage of the Duke of Mont- 
pensier to the Queen's younger sister. 

In Spain itself Isabel's own marriage excited greater 
interest. It was understood, since the royal meeting at Eu, 
that her choice must be made from the Spanish 
branch of the Bourbons. Of the possible candi- ma?rff sh 
dates, the Count of Montemolin, son and heir of 
Carlos, was barred by the active opposition of Narvaez, 
and the same influence seemed likely to be fatal to Cristina's 
brother, the Count of Trapani, whom she favoured. Of 
the two sons of the Queen-Mother's sister Carlota, Enrique 
Duke of Seville, who among all the candidates was best 
qualified by ability and character, had so miscalculated 
the future as to make himself the champion of pro- 
gressist views, while Francisco of Asis, Duke of Cadiz, was 
known to be unlikely, for physical reasons, to have children to 
succeed him. Just for this reason he seemed the candidate 
best adapted to further Orleanist ambitions, by securing the 
succession to the issue of the Montpensier marriage. Cristina, 
to her discredit, was ready to abandon Trapani and lend her- 
self to French designs, and the plan for a simultaneous marriage 
between Francisco and Isabel and between Montpensier and 
Luisa, though formally denied at another interview at Eu 
between the sovereigns of England and France (1845), was 
only postponed by the momentary recovery of the Tory 
ministry and Guizot's renewed hope of obtaining his object 
without a rupture of the entente. But the final breach between 
Narvaez and the Court and the general's consequent retire- 
ment in March, 1846, removed a possible obstacle in Spain, 


178 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

while Palmerston's accession to power in June counselled 
haste. Through the French ambassador Bresson, a final 
agreement was effected, the formal betrothals took place in 
August, and the marriages were accomplished in October. To 
the protests of the British government it was answered, 
quite untruly, that England had broken the agreement made 
at Eu by continuing to support the Saxe-Coburg candidate. 
The Entente Cordiale was now finally at an end. The cruel 
wrong done to Isabel and the duplicity of the French govern- 
ment combined to excite the strongest indignation. Palmer- 
ston vowed vengeance, and set himself by every means in his 
power to thwart and to hamper the policy of Louis Philippe. 

It is, however, a mistake to regard the scandal of the 
Spanish marriages as the death-blow of the Orleans Monarchy. 

France certainly lost her ally, but a growing com- 
Mffect^of the munity of interest with Austria seemed likely for 
marriages. the next two years to counterbalance the loss. 

At home the effects were almost negligible. 
Guizot did, indeed, entirely fail to secure the prestige he had 
promised himself by the assertion of the " National honour." 
The nation viewed the mean intrigue either with indifference 
or disgust, and refused to recognise a French triumph in a 
dynastic success for the House of Orleans. But the parties 
in the Chamber barely suspended their wranglings to notice 
the event, and the working classes of Paris scarcely averted 
their eyes for a moment from their grievances. Paris and the 
Chamber between them were to bring the monarchy to ruin. 



WE have already traced the process by which England, 
Russia, and France, each following the dictates of its own 
national interests, had detached themselves 
successively from that closer union between the Failure of 

, ^, J , . , ., , Austria s Euro- 

great Powers which had momentarily expressed pean policy. 

the aspirations of the years which saw the down- 
fall of Napoleon. Austria alone, under the guidance of 
Metternich, determined by interests and exigencies no less 
selfish, had been tolerably consistent in wishing to maintain a 
common guarantee of the status quo in Europe. Her efforts 
in this direction had been attended with little success. Aided 
by the countenance of one or more of the three Powers first 
mentioned, Belgium, Spain, Portugal and Greece had asserted 
a claim to determine their own destinies in a sense contrary 
to the Austrian ideal of stability, thus emancipating them- 
selves from the collective tutelage by which Metternich had 
sought to secure it. 

In Italy and in Germany the case was very different. In 
both these countries -Austria enjoyed possessions and an 
influence which could not but be endangered 
by the growth of national sentiment or popular 
institutions. And just as she was constrained to Italy. 
oppose both tendencies within her own composite 
dominions, as certain to lead to racial strife and disruption, 
so, by the same law of her being, was she driven to constant 
intervention outside her own Italian and German districts to 
guard against movements, which, after eliminating the influence 
which she exercised beyond her frontiers, might even end in 
attracting her outlying provinces into new political connec- 
tions. In Italy no other great Power held a single foot of 
territory ; in Germany, Prussia under Frederick William III 
was usually disposed to be guided by Vienna. Thus it happened 
that in a narrower sphere of influence Austria was enabled to 

180 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

give consistent application to the principles which she had 
failed to establish as the public law of Europe. The 
revolutionary movements of 1848, often represented as a kind 
of epidemic spreading over Europe from Paris, were in their 
essence a spontaneous outburst of all the forces long pent up 
by the domination of Austria in Italy and in Germany, and the 
overthrow of Louis Philippe merely gave the occasion for what 
was already inevitable. The present chapter will attempt to 
sketch the history of both countries during the quarter of a 
century which preceded the outbreak. 

Metternich once described Italy as a " geographical 
expression." The Congress of Vienna left the country much 

itai after 1815 as -^ a P^ eon ^ a( ^ f oun d it j parcelled out among a 
number of independent governments. There was 
110 federation here or common organisation of any kind. The 
one unifying principle was the informal influence exercised by 
Austria. Nor were the divisions of Italy altogether artificial. 
They corresponded tolerably closely to the physical features 
of the country, to differences of taste, temperament, history 
and institutions, and to the various degrees of civilisation 
existing among the people. 

The rich agricultural plain of Lombardy and Venetia, 
bounded by the Alps, the Po, the Ticino and the Adriatic, and 
dotted with thriving and busy towns, was under 
the direct rule of Austria. Alien as it was, a 
rigid bureaucracy staffed by German officials, 
the government was probably the best in contemporary Italy. 
It was effective ; it was even-handed in its dealings with 
individuals and classes ; justice, save in political cases, 
was well administered ; education was encouraged ; the 
Press obtained a certain freedom ; the clergy were firmly con- 
trolled by the State ; the country enjoyed a considerable 
measure of local government on a small scale. There were 
grave faults, however, inseparable from the alien character of 
the administration. It sought to denationalise the province. 
Lombards and Venetians lived under Austrian law, a system 
ill-suited to their customs and habits of thought ; everything 
used in the public service was imported from Austria ; Austrian 
history alone was taught in the schools. It was, besides, too 
dependent upon instructions from Vienna. Its action was there- 
fore invariably slow, and its methods so unadaptable as often 
to cripple industrial and commercial enterprise. Worst of 
all, it was suspicious. The trials of political offenders were 


travesties of justice, a few thoughtless words might consign 
a man to a life's imprisonment in the Spielberg in far-off 
Austria, and the sbirri, or political police, exercised an irritating 
espionage on every department of private life. Easy-going 
as were the Lombards, and pleasure-loving as were the 
Venetians, the vexatious stupidities of the government and 
the humiliation of a foreign rule were spreading a growing 
discontent among the classes to which the Napoleonic occupa- 
tion had opened careers for talent and ambition. 

Southward of the Po the two duchies which occupied the 
northward slope of the Apennines presented a remarkable 
contrast. That of Parma, bordering upon the 
territories of Piedmont, had been granted as a 
principality to Napoleon's consort, Marie Louise. 
Here almost the whole apparatus of the French occupation 
had been maintained the French Code, the French Concordat, 
a Council of State on the French model. Education was 
cared for, there was little espionage, and the people were 
contented. Eastwards of Parma, Duke Francis IV ruled 
over the Duchy of Modena, Along with a disposition natu- 
rally kindly and well-meaning he possessed all the instincts 
of a benevolent despot. Unhappily, his benevolence never 
stood the strain of anything that appeared to threaten his 
despotic authority. In spite, therefore, of some enlightened 
measures outside the sphere of politics, he deliberately 
strengthened every kind of reactionary influence, tolerated 
every long-standing abuse, and interfered again and again to 
make the best institutions inoperative for good, thus gaining 
for himself a reputation as the worst of tyrants. 

The Grand Duchy of Tuscany, south and west of the great 
curve in the Apennines, was ruled by Leopold II, a scion of the 
House of Hapsburg, whom an Italian satirist has 
nicknamed " the Tuscan Morpheus." Indeed, in 
this favoured land there brooded over ruler, government, and 
people alike a spirit of somnolent, easy-going good nature. 
Leopold, whose chief interest lay in farming, public works, and 
the drainage of marshes, left his bureaucratic government to its 
own devices, and paid little heed to external politics. The 
officials were too inactive to be tyrannous, the police, however 
annoying their petty persecutions, were seldom cruel. The law 
was mild, the Church was kept under restraint, the great landed 
proprietors were intent on agricultural improvements, the 
citizens on business and pleasure, and the people generally 

182 THE ENTENTE CORDIALS, 1830-1848 

were contented and comfortable. But the state of the Grand 
Duchy was too truly described by one of its own patriotic 
nobles as " Paradise without either the tree of Knowledge or 
the tree of Life." Closely connected with Tuscany the little 
Duchy of Lucca maintained an independent existence under 
the mild despotism of an Austrian duchess. 

From the frontier of the Papal States to the southern shore 
of Sicily misgovernment and corruption reigned supreme. 
The institutions and government of the Kingdom 
of Naples had indeed undergone a sweeping 
reformation on the French model at the hands of its French 
Kings, Joseph Bonaparte and Joachim Murat. The law was re- 
modelled, feudalism was abolished, monasteries were dissolved, 
great estates broken up into smaller holdings, a regular system 
of local government and education was introduced. The 
restoration of the Bourbon Ferdinand I had left the main 
fabric untouched. In theory Naples possessed the best 
institutions in Italy. In practice no better illustration could 
be found of the powerlessness of laws and institutions alone 
to confer the blessings of sound government. The dynasty knew 
no other rule of conduct than its own will. Under the perjured 
Ferdinand I and the slothful and immoral Francis I the law 
was disregarded, set aside by exceptional police instructions, 
or rendered inoperative through the corruptibility of officials. 
Shrewder than his father or grandfather, popular even, owing 
to his sham military tastes, his patriotic talk, and the easy 
vulgarity of his manners, Ferdinand II, who succeeded to the 
throne in 1830, was no less a tyrant, if more effective and less 
contemptible, and was to earn an unsavoury notoriety sur- 
passing theirs as the Re Bomba, who laid Messina in ashes. 

Nor was the Crown only to blame. In fact, if not in name, 
the nobles quietly resumed their lost powers and privileges, and 
exercised them the more unsparingly in that they were based 
no longer upon custom but on encroachment. Finally, there 
was in Naples no class strong or united enough to give con- 
sistent support from below to institutions whose only strength 
had resided in the bureaucracy which had imposed them. 
The capital was at the mercy of the idle starving mob of 
lazzaroni ; in the country districts, where roads and drainage 
were neglected, brigandage alone flourished. 

Sicily, united to Naples under the same Crown, in all else 
stood apart. The fiery, silent, half -savage people of the 
island detested Neapolitan rule, and bitterly resented the Act 


of Union of 1816, by which they had been deprived of the 
Constitution which in 1812 and under English influence had 
taken the place of the still older forms of self- . 
government dating from the Norman invasions of 
the eleventh century. While, however, the Neapolitan officials 
and tax-gatherers were hated impartially by all classes, they 
were not, perhaps, the worst foes of the prosperity of the 
island. Feudalism, abolished in name, had never ceased to 
exist in reality. It was a land of enormous estates belonging 
to the nobles, where a primitive agriculture struggled here and 
there in the midst of immense tracts of waste pasture, where 
roads scarcely existed, and where the peasants were driven by 
malaria and brigandage to dwell in walled villages often 
remote from their work. Only among the orange-groves of 
Palermo and the vineyards of Marsala were the riches of the 
island turned to account. 

North of the Neapolitan frontier the Papal States struck 
diagonally across the Peninsula in an irregular belt of territory 
extending from the neighbourhood of Rome to the 

,, P.. -TJ mi j j- j. j. Papal States. 

mouth ol the Po. They comprised districts upon 
both seas ; on the one the Romagna, or southern watershed of 
the lower valley of the Po, with the Marches of Ancona pro- 
longing the coastline southwards between the Apennines and 
the Adriatic ; on the other the level country on either side 
of the Tiber estuary. These two districts were at once 
divided and connected by the mountainous tract of Umbria. 
At first sight it seems one of the paradoxes of history that 
here under the direct rule of the head of the Catholic Church 
misgovernment and tyranny should have reached their climax 
in Italy. Yet, on closer consideration, such misgovernment 
will seem to have been well-nigh inevitable. A rapid succession 
of rulers of advanced age, elected as the result of complicated 
intrigues in the College of Cardinals, gave little promise of 
either a vigorous or a consistent policy. The administration, 
conducted as it was by clerics or under their supervision, 
necessarily developed grave faults. It was out of sympathy 
with secular and material interests. Agriculture, trade, and 
roads were neglected. By a not unnatural extension of the 
functions of government in the supposed interests of religion 
it exercised a prying, minute, and vexatious supervision in 
matters properly outside its sphere. Nowhere were the 
policeman and the spy more actively employed. By an easy 
confusion of mind opposition to and criticism of persons 

184 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

invested with a sacred character assumed the dimensions of 
impiety. The government became timid and obscurantist. 
All independence of thought was proscribed ; books, ideas, and 
inventions of any novelty were rigorously excluded. The habit 
of interference was universal and on the increase. But the 
government was not merely vexatious, it was also incompetent. 
It was scarcely to be expected that the narrow training of the 
clerical seminaries would turn out great statesmen and 
administrators. There was no organisation, no unity of 
system, no attempt to replace what was obsolete. Nor was 
justice even-handed. The Canon law drew cases of the most 
diverse kind under its own special jurisdiction, and pre- 
scribed penalties of exceptional leniency for clerical offenders ; 
while the ordinary courts, presided over by priests ignorant 
of the law, were really controlled by their deputies who were 
amenable to every kind of corruption. Thrown by its own 
defects upon the defensive, the government paid no heed to 
the misdoings of its supporters. 

In the hands of men of the highest character such a system 
could scarcely have succeeded. As it was, corruption and 
self-seeking were widespread. Men chafed under the regula- 
tions of a ruling caste many of whom did not know how to 
regulate their own lives, and spurned the claims of those 
who showed but little respect for the sacred basis of their own 
authority. The police, the Inquisition, and the licensed 
assassin of the reactionary Sanfedist association alone main- 
tained the government in power. 

Italy was indeed in an unhappy case. Everywhere the 
sbirri swarmed. Political, industrial and literary activities 
were everywhere fettered by obsolete social institutions, and 
by minute and unintelligent regulation. A growing middle 
class found its energies everywhere repressed. The govern- 
ments would not, or dared not, undertake reforms. And 
behind the governments stood Austria, ready for the sake of 
peace in her own provinces to guarantee the status quo else- 
where and foredooming every revolt to failure. It was truly 
said that those who still dared to hope for better things "ate 
Austria in their bread." 

In the little kingdom of Piedmont alone, wedged between 

Lombardy and the Alps, there existed, along with much that 

Piedmont was un P roimsm gj the elements of a healthy 

national life. It may be granted at once that 

government was bureaucratic and unprogressive ; that the 


nobles, retaining most of their feudal rights, kept their tenants 
in abject dependence ; that the clergy, though strictly con- 
trolled by the State, exercised an unusual amount of dis- 
ciplinary power over the life of the inhabitants ; that the 
monastic system flourished ; that class distinctions were 
peculiarly rigid ; that there was little intellectual life or moral 
enthusiasm, and that dullness and ignorance characterised 
every section of society. But geography had not set Piedmont 
in the path of the warring armies of France and Austria for 
nothing. The dangers and opportunities of the position had 
developed in the House of Savoy a breed of hard-working and 
vigilant rulers, and had imparted to the officials a respect for 
honest administration and sound finance, to the nobles a 
strong sense of national duty, and to the people an instinct for 
obedience rare in Italy. The maintenance of a strong army 
necessary to the very existence of the State invigorated the 
administration and served to implant the military virtues in 
princes and people alike. Nor was self-preservation the only 
motive at work. The traditional policy of the House of 
Savoy viewed Lombardy as "an artichoke to be devoured 
leaf by leaf," and suggested a natural antagonism to the 
Austrian occupation, which inspired hopes outside the boun- 
daries of Piedmont itself. 

In 1831 Charles Albert Prince of Carignano ascended the 
Piedmontese throne. We have already described (p. 50) his 
connection with the attempted revolution of 1821. 
For his share in that ill-fated movement a Sf h Smont rt 
deliberate attempt had been made by his cousin 
and predecessor Charles Felix, to exclude him from the 
succession with the connivance of Austria, and only the 
jealousy of the other Powers represented at Verona had 
defeated the scheme. He was destined to play a conspicuous 
part in the events which led to the liberation of Italy, 
a part in which, owing to his peculiar temperament, both 
his actions and his motives are often difficult to under- 
stand. He may be credited with a real sense of royal duty 
and a desire to serve his people, and his hatred for Austria 
was whole-hearted, based as it was upon personal no less 
than national grounds. But, like many well-meaning princes 
of his time, though ardently desiring the end in view, he had 
an instinctive distaste for the means which the circumstances 
of his age offered for its achievement. There was, indeed, 
little hitherto in the history of popular movements to inspire 

186 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

confidence. Everywhere they had overshot the mark of their 
first endeavours, and their forces had been dissipated in factious 
strife. Charles Albert frankly hated and dreaded reform by 
way of revolution. Moreover, he had good reason to respect 
the might of Austria. It was a matter of the nicest calculation 
to know when and where she might be safely defied, and popular 
passion seldom calculates. Here, then, was his problem. Im- 
potent as he was without the driving power of enthusiasms which 
he dreaded, it was ever a question with him whether at all these 
forces were to be let loose, and if so, when and how far. And 
the King never possessed the moral character which alone can 
pluck a decision out of a tangle of opposing considerations, and 
sustain it through success and failure alike. His morbid, 
self -torturing nature, the prey alternately of sensual excess 
and of asceticism, submitting its harassed sense of duty to the 
counsels of the confessional, was a very seed-plot for irresolu- 
tion and hesitation. Men called him " II Re Tentenna " the 
Wavering King. With such a nature as his it was well done in 
him that in the end he divined the time and made the sacrifice 
of his prejudices and of his life. 

At the very moment of his accession revolution was again 
stirring in Italy. The seat of the movement was the Romagna 
and the neighbouring duchies of Parma and 
Romagna Modena. Nowhere was Papal rule more disliked 

than in Romagna, and Cardinal Consalvi, the 
reforming minister of the restored Pius VII, had only added 
to the discontent by destroying local liberties, as the first 
step towards a reorganisation which his fall left uncompleted. 
Leo XII (1824-1829) returned to a policy of restoration on 
the old lines, and at the moment that Pius VIII, after a reign 
of a single year, was succeeded by Gregory XVI, the districts 
north of the Apennines were ripe for revolt. 

The conspirators were mostly men of the middle class, 
Carbonari of the theoretical type and of no practical experience, 
with a programme imported from Paris and hopes of active 
French support. Strangely enough, they had received en- 
couragement from Francis, Duke of Modena, who was ambitious 
of extending his duchy at the expense of Austria or of the Pope. 
But the times were not favourable, and the conspirators 
inspired little confidence. He turned upon them and arrested 
them in their beds. Immediately Bologna rose in revolt 
(Feb. 1831). Never was there a more unanimous movement. 
In Romagna, Umbria, and the Marches, without fighting or 


bloodshed, the cities abolished the Temporal Power and formed 
provisional governments. The infection spread to Parma 
and Modena, and the rulers were soon in flight. But France 
was far away, and Louis Philippe was cautious. Austria was 
very near, and the doctors, professors, and lawyers who led 
the movement did not know how to fight and die for a cause. 
Austrian troops restored the governments at Parma and 
Modena, and entered the Romagna. The insurgents failed to 
make the most of their one small military success at Rimini, 
and by May the provisional governments had submitted. 
At this point the Powers interposed with recommendations of 
reform. But they were more interested in securing the de- 
parture of the Austrians than the acceptance of their sugges- 
tions, and when the invader withdrew in July the proposals 
of the memorandum were still unfulfilled. Revolt broke 
out afresh. This time Europe desired above all things the 
restoration of order ; for the Austrian troops were again on 
the move. One gallant action at Cesena against a Papal force 
redeemed the rising from contempt, before the arrival of the 
Austrians and the inevitable end. A new incident more 
dramatic than dangerous closed the whole episode. It was 
at this moment that Casimir Perier despatched the French 
expedition already noticed to occupy Ancona (p. 126). The 
July monarchy had disappointed the naive hopes of the 
revolutionists ; public opinion in France was uncomfortable, 
and demanded this act of national self-assertion, to prove that 
the patroness of revolution could still interfere if she would. 

The revolution in Romagna was the last effort of the 
Carbonari. They had proved themselves unequal to the great- 
ness of their task. Their operations were not con- 
fined to Italy alone, and their teaching thus became 
international rather than national, offering a 
vague and negative condemnation of tyranny rather than any 
positive or practical aim to guide the endeavours of an Italian 
patriot. Their organisation by lodges was fatal to unity and 
co-operation ; their secrecy made the rank and file of the 
members blind instruments of the leaders' will ; the cere- 
monies which they had borrowed from the Freemasons fostered 
a taste for conspiracy and secrecy as such, without reference 
to any definite purpose, and encouraged a puerility worthy of 
small boys playing at pirates. 

From these devious and miry ways Giuseppe Mazzini lifted 
Italian patriotism by the foundation of his association of 

188 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

" Young Italy." Born at Genoa, in 1805, he became in 
early manhood the prophet of United Italy. First and last 
an idealist, with all an idealist's moral enthusiasm, sense 
of duty, quickness of conscience, and, it must be 
^YouSg a rtaiy." added, all an idealist's one-sidedness and intoler- 
ance, he addressed his pleading to enthusiasm, and 
set before his followers a definite object for attainment cal- 
culated to appeal as much to the heart as to the understanding. 
He addressed himself especially to the young, and bade them 
stir the heart of the people. The goal of their common en- 
deavour was to be a United Italy, to be reached by the spon- 
taneous exertions of all Italians, rising against the Austrians 
as Spain had risen against the French. Nor was the work to 
end with liberation and unity alone. Italy must be re- 
generated, and in this great task no form of government save 
a Republic was to be trusted to do justice to the poor and 
to seek after universal enlightenment. And this regenerate 
and republican Italy, with its capital at Rome, was once more 
to give a law to the world, lighting and guiding the other 
nations along the path of future progress. 

This was the message which, spread by pen and tongue 
through the agency of countless eager disciples, kindled the 
flame of an enthusiasm in Italy sufficient to ensure the ultimate 
triumph of the idea of unity. Without the moral forces which 
it set in motion the work could never have been accomplished. 
But it is equally true that unaided by other influences it could 
have effected little. Mazzini, mis -reading entirely the lessons 
of the Peninsular war, relied too confidently upon the valour 
of undisciplined patriots. He put too great a faith in the 
efforts of amateur politicians, minimised difficulties, and had 
a fierce intolerance for anything which modified the ideal com- 
pleteness of his visions, an intolerance which made him at a later 
period a thorn in the side of those who were working for Italy. 
And, estimated by the results of the first movements which it 
inspired, the teaching of " Young Italy " might well have been 
judged as ineffective for practical good as that of the Carbonari. 

The earliest of these movements took place in Piedmont. 
On the accession of Charles Albert, Mazzini, with some in- 
consistency, addressed him in a letter, calling 
Nationalist upon him to take up the national cause. The 

conspiracy in r , *. , . 

piedmont. only consequence of this venture was a severe 

sentence passed upon the writer. Having, as he 

thought, thus unmasked a false friend of liberty, Mazzini 


proceeded to direct the energies of Young Italy into a plot for 
the King's deposition and murder. But the vigilance of the 
police was not to be eluded, the whole conspiracy was exposed, 
and Charles Albert stamped it out with all the remorseless 
cruelty of fear (April, 1833). Equally futile was a raid 
directed by Mazzini from the safe refuge of Switzerland early 
in the next year with the object of carrying over to the side 
of revolution the Piedmoiitese army and fleet. The raiders 
were dispersed ; and Giuseppe Garibaldi, a young sailor of 
Nice, who makes his first appearance in the attempt to corrupt 
the allegiance of the navy, incurred the sentence which sent 
him to the New World to seek his fortunes and to make 
his name as a leader of irregulars in the service of 

Three years later the revolutionary societies were at work 
in Sicily stirring up native discontent against Neapolitan 
rule. Maddened by an outbreak of cholera which 
was represented as the work of the government, 
the people of Syracuse and Messina broke into 
revolt, only to be crushed with thorough-going cruelty (1837). 

Once more "Young Italy" re-wove its plots, and a rising 
was prepared in Tuscany, Naples, and the Papal States for 1843. 
But while the conspirators hesitated the govern- 
ments had possessed themselves of the details of 
their plans ; and the sole result of their efforts was the 
desperate attempt of a handful of doomed men, under the two 
Muratori, to hold their own among the hills of Romagna. 

It wanted but one more incident to prove the futility of 
sporadic revolt. In 1844 two gallant Venetian brothers, 
named Baiidiera, inspired by Mazzinian teaching, 
though strongly dissuaded by Mazzini himself, brotiiers diera 
threw up their commissions in the Austrian navy 
to make a descent in Calabria, with the confident expectation 
of rousing the whole province. But their intention leaked out 
through letters written from Italy to Mazzini in England, and 
Ferdinand was ready for them. They were captured and 
mercilessly shot. 

It was a turning point in the national movement. 
Frightened by the democratic and anti-clerical teaching of 
"Young Italy," disgusted by high-strung sentiment The Moderates 
and by the futile outbreaks which only provoked 
reprisals, moderate men took refuge in the work of associations 
for the improvement of education, agriculture, and trade, and 

190 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

for the encouragement of science and the railway system, 
which, as they foresaw, would " stitch the boot." It was in- 
evitable that social work should lead on to politics, and round 
the Moderates there gathered all those elements in Italy which, 
while opposed to the existing regime, held aloof through 
timidity, caution or common sense from the ways of conspiracy. 
The Moderates were divided into two schools of opinion. 
The one, the Neo-Guelfs, whose views were set forth in the 

Moral and Civil Primacy of the, Italians by a 
5 ' Piedmontese priest, Gioberti, pinned their hopes 
upon a regenerated Papacy presiding over a federation of 
Italian States, secure against foreign interference and re- 
generated by the efforts of individuals and classes. It was 
an inspiring book, and, unlike much of Mazzini's teaching, 
took some account of the situation in Italy as it was. But 
the spectacle of Gregory XVI's oppressive misrule gave little 
promise of an early fulfilment for its visions. 

The other school, who came to be called the Albertists, 
turned to the House of Savoy. Cesare Balbo, son of a Pied- 
The Albertists montese minister, in his Hopes of Italy, called upon 

Italians to forsake sloth and to federate them- 
selves with their rulers under Charles Albert to work for the 
first necessity of all progress, national independence. He was 
followed by D'Azeglio, a Piedmontese noble, who had dabbled 
in painting and literature, and had openly advocated Albertist 
views in Romagna. In a pamphlet On Recent Events in 
Eomagna, he divided his censures between the Papacy and the 
revolutionaries, denouncing the execrable misrule of the 
former and the ill-managed outbreaks of the latter, which 
staked all the hopes for the future upon a doubtful hazard. 
He called for patience till the day of opportunity. 

The book directed the thoughts of patriotic Italians in a 
new direction. But Charles Albert made no attempt for the 

time being to place himself at the head of those 
cSies Albert. wno nad begun to look to him for leadership. 

It is true that he leaned to ministers of reforming 
tendencies, remodelled the law and reorganised the army ; 
that he encouraged trade, education, and railways ; and that, 
in the course of disputes with Austria over trade monopolies, 
railway construction and customs duties, he used language 
of unmistakable menace, threatening to " set the bells 
ringing from Ticino to Savoy," and declaring that if Piedmont 
lost Austria's friendship she would win Italy. But he always 


drew back from a decisive breach, and for the moment another 
figure took his place on the forefront of the political stage. 

In June, 1846, Gregory XVI died, and the Cardinals, 
apprehensive of fresh Austrian interference in Romagna, made 
haste to elect a man of a very different type, pioNono 
Cardinal Mastai Ferretti, the " Pio Nono," whose 
reign was to be an epoch in the history of his country and of 
his Church. The son of a noble house who had found his way 
into the priesthood as the result of an epileptic affection which 
had unfitted him for the life of a soldier, he had made a name 
for himself as a high-minded gentleman, a devoted pastor, 
and a preacher of a strongly emotional type. Personal 
kindliness, love of conciliation, and an open mind were 
guarantees of the best intentions, and had brought him into 
sympathy with the noblest aspirations of his time. His first 
act was an amnesty to all political offenders, his first utter- 
ances promised the removal of all the barriers which had been 
raised against material progress and enlightenment. Then 
it was seen how truly Gioberti had gauged the real feelings of 
Italy. His conception of an ideal Pope was one which appealed 
to all hearts. In Rome itself and all over Italy the presence 
and the name of Pio Nono awoke outbursts of enthusiasm. 
Charles Albert, strengthened by the sanction of Papal approval, 
promised in no doubtful terms to stand by him. 

But there was not in Pius IX the stuff of which leaders are 
made. Only too truly he said of himself, " They want to 
make a Napoleon of a poor country parson." He had no 
seriousness of purpose, he lost his head amid political clamour, 
and he dared not assume responsibility or harden his heart to 
make enemies. No reform was possible without a clean sweep 
of existing officials, and from so drastic a step the Pope's kindly 
nature shrank. Popular agitation began everywhere to outrun 
the intentions of the governments, Austria only waited an excuse 
to interfere, and still no lead came from Rome. The Pope 
was drifting into the helplessly expectant attitude of the other 
rulers. A citizen guard as a precaution against reaction and 
as a restraint upon anarchy was demanded and conceded in 
Tuscany, and even in the city of Rome, where the mob, still 
loyal to Pius, now held control of the streets under the leader- 
ship of a popular blacksmith nicknamed Ciceruacchio. Anti- 
Austrian and national feeling rose yet higher when Austria 
heavily reinforced the garrison which she had a right to keep 
at Ferrara. The small thrones rocked. The Duke of Lucca 

192 THE ENTENTE COKDIALE, 1830-1848 

fled, and sold his rights to Tuscany ; the Grand Duke of 

Tuscany changed his advisers ; the death of the 

tf Sa* i011 f Duchess of Parma resulted in rearrangements of 

frontier, which nearly brought the neighbouring 

duchies into armed collision. 

War, in fact, was in the air, and men's eyes turned again 
from the Pope to the King of Piedmont. Charles Albert was 
wavering between his distaste for the growing popular excite- 
ment and his own harassed sense of a call, which impelled him 
to come forward. Another hostile act of Austria would have 
turned the scale, when the garrison at Ferrara was suddenly 
withdrawn in deference to Palmerston's protests (Dec., 1847), 
and there was a momentary lull before the inevitable storm burst. 
In Germany, as in Italy, political development stood still, 
while Austria jealously watched for every symptom of com- 
bination or change. There was, indeed, little 
either of real oppression or of misgovemment, 
but the system failed to forward, and even effec- 
tively retarded, the fulfilment of any aspirations in the direction 
of national unity and self-government. The seat of this 
paralysis of public life lay in the central organ of authority, 
the Diet of the Confederation. We have already seen how 
Metternich, with the goodwill of Prussia, contrived that it 
should be powerless to set in motion changes detrimental to 
Austrian interests. Austria, however, was not solely respon- 
sible for its weakness. The sovereign States, great and small, 
had given their willing adhesion to a Constitution which erected 
no power capable of modifying their independence. The victory 
had remained with the princes ; and even where constitutions 
had been granted, as in the southern States of Bavaria, 
Wurtemberg, and Baden, they had been granted by the princes 
for reasons wholly personal or local, and with no idea of 
forwarding the general interest of the Confederation. It is, 
therefore, with the policy of individual States that we are 
concerned in the period now before us, and the central in- 
stitutions scarcely figure at all, except when galvanised into 
momentary activity from Vienna. 

By far the most important development during the thirty 
years which preceded the outbreak of 1848 was due to the 
commercial policy of Prussia. We have already 
seen (P- 44 ) now under the guidance of Maassen 
internal customs disappeared and free trade was 
established within the boundaries of the State. There 


remained, however, a serious obstacle to the growth of pros- 
perity. The Prussian provinces presented a very irregular out- 
line. The shortest line of communication between two Prussian 
districts very often passed across the territory of a neighbour , 
and the Western or Rhine provinces were bodily divided from 
the central mass. It became the object of the government to 
induce the neighbouring States to combine with Prussia in 
one Customs Union, or Zollverein, thus abolishing the restric- 
tions on the movement of trade between one State and another, 
while the Prussian tariff was adopted on the frontiers of the 
whole union and the revenue shared in proportion to popula- 
tion between the associated governments. 

The growth of the Zollverein was gradual, considerations 
of utility only gradually overcoming State jealousies. The first 
treaty was made with Schwarzburg-Sonderhausen, in 1819, 
and Hesse-Darmstadt joined nine years later. Meanwhile, in 
1826, the Southern states had formed a rival union led by 
Bavaria and Wurtemberg. Isolated states now found them- 
selves at a disadvantage ; and accordingly, in 1828, a third or 
Central Union took shape under the guidance of Saxony. The 
position of the newest union clearly gave it an enormous 
advantage in controlling the main lines of traffic, and the 
northern and southern groups were forced to lay aside their 
jealousies and combine against the interloper. By detaching 
two of its members a breach was effected in the barrier, the 
Central Union broke up, and the other two leagues having 
learned to work together, gradually coalesced under Prussian 
leadership, absorbing at the same time the rival organisation. 
It was a circumstance full of promise for the future that, 
without the intervention of the Diet and without any pressure 
from popular forces, the states had shown themselves able to 
combine for practical objects (1836). 

The news of the revolution of July 1830 in Paris revived 
political unrest. The agitation was, however, of a milder 
character than heretofore, and found many of the 
rulers not ill-disposed to concession. Constitu- o^ 
tions were granted in Brunswick, Hanover, 
Saxony, and Hesse-Cassel. But such local successes were 
far from satisfying the extremists. An epidemic of public 
meetings broke out, culminating in 1832 in a great demonstra- 
tion at the Castle of Hampach in the Rhine country. Here 
there was much noise, oratory, and conviviality in honour of 
such abstractions as Liberty and German Unity, before the 

194 THE ENTENTE CORDIALS, 1830-1848 

meeting dispersed having caused more alarm than its pro- 
ceedings justified. 

To Metternich the event came as an opportunity. He had 
been seriously disquieted by proposals for a common military 
organisation under Prussian leadership, as a pre- 
thefDiet ch and caution against possible enterprises by the new 
French government of Louise Philippe, and though 
his influence had decided Frederick William not to countenance 
the suggestion, he was glad to be able to revive his own 
authority in the Diet. A fresh set of restrictions were 
therefore drafted and accepted. The Press and the Universities 
were put under control, political meetings and songs as well 
as the black, red, and gold badge of German Unity were 
proscribed, while the Diet was charged to interfere in the event 
of quarrels between a ruler and his Estates. 

A group of irresponsible extremists determined to retaliate. 
A plot was laid for the destruction of the members of the Diet 
at Frankfort with the aid of a number of Polish 
and other political refugees (1833). The plot 
totally miscarried, but, not unnaturally, it did 
not dispose the assembly to milder measures, and a committee 
was finally appointed for the definite purpose of watching over 
and reporting upon the internal affairs of the separate states. The 
repressive energies of the governments were not exhausted by 
the action of the Diet. The compact concluded at Munchen- 
gratz between the Czar, the Emperor of Austria, and the Crown 
Prince of Prussia, already noticed (p. 140), pointed as much 
to common principles of domestic policy as to co-operation 
against Canning's principle of non-intervention. A second 
conference between representatives of the German states at 
Vienna (1834) marked a third attempt to secure common 
action against revolution and an organ through which it might 
be exercised. Resolutions of a restrictive character were agreed 
upon, and a Court of Arbitration was established for dealing 
with difficulties which might arise between a prince and his 
subjects. It thus happened that, when in 1837 the justly 
detested Ernest Augustus, Duke of Cumberland (succeeding 
to the throne of Hanover on the accession of Queen Victoria), 
proceeded to abolish the existing Constitution, his unhappy 
subjects got more sympathy than practical support. Seven 
professors of Gottingen, who for their protest were ejected from 
their chairs, received something like a national ovation, and 
soon found professorships elsewhere ; but the Diet decided 


by the casting vote of Austria to allow matters to take their 
own course in Hanover. 

The death of Frederick William III marks the year 1840 as 
an epoch in the history of Germany. Closely associated 
with the misfortunes of the Napoleonic domination and with 
the triumphs of the War of Liberation, the old King had 
become part of the national life, and his policy, for all his 
unwillingness to move with the times, had been loyally 
accepted by his subjects. His death set free hopes and 
speculations hitherto repressed, which the character of his 
successor did much to quicken into activity. 

Frederick William IV, son of the late King and of the 
lovable and gifted Queen Louisa, differed from the majority of 
his house in that he was no soldier and no lover 
of bureaucracy. Cultured, versatile, artistic, 
imaginative, he seemed little likely to be satisfied 
with a policy which was traditional and negative. A natural 
orator with the gift for telling phrase and striking objective 
illustration (which Bismarck seems to have imitated while 
mingling with it a brutal directness which was all his own), he 
seemed fitted to play a leader's part in an age of expanding 
ideas and popular movements. His sympathetic and attractive 
personality appeared destined to capture the hearts of his 
people no less certainly than his mother had done. But 
Frederick William dwelt in a world apart, a world from which 
the sordid and the commonplace elements, which form so 
large a part of things as they are, were rigorously excluded. 
He has been called a true son of the Romantic movement. The 
past with its glories fascinated him ; religion with him was 
an enthusiastic half -puritan creed ; for himself he aspired to 
the hero's part, and would have been happy in the devotion of 
a loyal following and in the self-abnegation which a great cause 
inspires. In his eyes a King's office was sacred, his duty to his 
people paramount. To the people it belonged loyally to 
receive the benefits which the ruler under his high obligation 
toiled to give them. Criticism and opposition were out of 
place, for every man and every institution had an appointed post 
and an appointed function. These views, as time went on, were 
exaggerated and distorted by the mental failure which finally 
clouded a nature of high promise. 

It will be remembered that the original prospects of a Con- 
stitution, which Frederick William III had held out to his 
subjects, had issued in nothing more than the establishment of a 

196 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE, 1830-1848 

universal system of local Estates. But in the year 1820, 
when an immediate grant of a constitution was expected, 
a law had been passed requiring the consent of the repre- 
sentatives of the nation to the negotiation of any loan or the 

imposition of any new tax. The accession of the 
ioan Railway new King coincided in time with the beginnings of 

railway enterprise in Germany, the first passenger 
line in England having been opened ten years earlier. Frederick 
William, eager to promote material prosperity, found himself 
hampered by the law of 1820. No railway could be constructed, 
even by private enterprise, without government guarantee, 
and such a guarantee presupposed a loan. No loan could 
be raised without some kind of popular representation to 
sanction it. 

But the King had no intention of providing Prussia with a 
Constitution. He had decided, in spite of the misgivings of 

Metternich and the strong opposition of his brother 
Estat3s? bined P fmce William, on a plan of his own. namely, to 

summon the members of the eight provincial 
Estates to Berlin, there to discuss and to approve in common 
the proposal he intended to submit. The Combined Estates 
met in April, 1847, and were addressed by the King in a 
speech that left no doubt as to his intentions. Speaking of 
written constitutions, "I will never," he said, "suffer a 
sheet of paper to come between the purposes of Almighty 
God and this country." The expedient was clearly tem- 
porary ; at best, tentative. Even the annual balance-sheet 
was to be submitted not to the whole body, but to a small 
permanent committee of eight. The Estates fell to de- 
manding the fulfilment of the promises of Frederick William 
III, and rejected all the royal proposals. The King had 
only succeeded in liberating the forces of discussion. 

This result was in keeping with a general growth of restless- 
ness over Central Europe. The free Republic of Cracow, 

erected out of a fragment of Poland by the 

Congress of Vienna, had become a hotbed of 

nationalist conspiracies, and in 1846 revolt broke 
out in the Austrian province of Galicia and the Prussian 
province of Poland. The Galician rebels were crushed by 
Colonel Benedek, who set the Ruthenian peasants against 
their Polish masters ; and, with the full sanction of Prussia 
and of the Czar, Austria annexed the little republic which had 
been the seed-plot of so much mischief. Nor was Poland alone 


stirring. Already in the constitutional states of the south, 
Baden, Bavaria, and Wurtemberg, public opinion was out- 
running the policy of the governments, and even leading to 
scenes of violence. 

1848 AND AFTER. 



WE have already seen that the movements which were to 
convulse Europe in 1848 and in the years which immediately 
preceded and followed it were the result of a long 
period of restlessness and agitation. Those who Sents of e i*848. 
initiated them plunged into revolution with the 
utmost confidence and with the highest hopes. They firmly 
believed that the ideas which had been so long repressed 
needed only to be clearly stated to command the allegiance 
of mankind, and required but to be put into practice to re- 
generate the world. They did not foresee the process by which 
the fairest ideals were warped and soiled in their passage from 
the study to the market-place. They failed to realise that 
society is based upon a compromise between conflicting ideals, 
a compromise which can seldom be effected by an idealist, re- 
quiring as it does the guiding hand of the statesman, and 
entailing sacrifices which he alone dares make to timidity, to 
time-serving, and to the baser elements of human nature. 
Hence, at the end of an immense upheaval, the face of European 
politics remained practically unaltered, and the revolution did 
but define the issues which succeeding years were to deal with 
by the hands of other men and by very different methods. 

It is not a little remarkable that the earliest movement of 
all, and that the least connected with the main struggle, achieved 
permanent results which were to be denied to the revolution as 
a whole. We have already had occasion to notice in outline the 
principal effects of the Napoleonic conquests and of the 
Congress of Vienna upon the affairs of Switzerland (pp. 4, 32), 
and it now becomes necessary to present the facts in fuller 


Prior to 1798 the Swiss Confederation had constituted a 
league of the loosest and most anomalous kind. It consisted 

of a bundle of differing races, French, Germans, 
Switzerland Italians, and Romansch, drawn together solely 
E^vofution. by the exigencies of common defence. Across 

these divisions of race and language ran the 
cracks and fissures left behind by the Reformation. The 
Calvinist, the Zwinglian and the Roman Catholic Churches all 
claimed adherents. The political divisions were at least as 
perplexing as those of faith and of language. The process of 
gradual accretion by which the league had been built up had 
combined communities of the most various kinds. There were 
the small original Cantons, such as Uri and Unterwalden, 
governed by their Landgemeinden, assemblies in which every 
citizen sat and voted ; there were leagues such as those of 
Orisons and Valais ; there were oligarchical urban communities, 
often ruling a surrounding district, like Berne or Lucerne ; 
Basel was the principality of a bishop ; St. Gall the dependency 
of an abbey ; while Neuchatel was the hereditary domain of the 
King of Prussia. Nor were the relations of all these communities 
to the Confederation and to one another by any means uni- 
form. The Cantons were full members of the League, while the 
" Allied Districts " constituted an inferior order of membership 
with limited rights. Yet another status belonged to the 
" Subject Districts," dependencies and possessions by right 
of conquest of one or more Cantons. The constitutions of the 
separate communities were at least as various as their relations 
to the Confederation, ranging from the primitive democracies 
of the ancient Cantons to the close oligarchies of some of the 
towns. Lastly, the Central Diet of the Confederation pos- 
sessed little power of common direction, for the representatives 
were dependent upon instructions from home, and no majority 
was entitled to compel the obedience of a minority. 

The French invaders of 1798 characteristically swept away 
every division, distinction, and privilege. The Helvetic 

Republic became a united state with a common 
RepiJbiic? tlc franchise, a common representative body, and a 

common executive. All Swiss enjoyed equal 
rights, and there was one coinage, one law, and one postal 
system for the whole land. Admirable as these changes were 
in theory, they conflicted with the habits and prejudices of the 
majority of the people, and a Federalist party, finding its 
ohief support in the old urban oligarchies and the primitive 


democratic Cantons, soon confronted the Unitary party, 
who favoured the French innovations. Napoleon, quick as 
he ever was in his earlier days to trim his sails to the breath of 
popular forces, interposed in 1803 with his " Act 
of Mediation." The new-fangled Republic made 
way for a reconstitution of the ancient Confedera- 
tion, which was now to consist of nineteen instead of thirteen 
Cantons, for the Emperor would not tolerate distinctions of 
status between the members, or the subjugation of one to 
another. Nor would he permit political inequality among the 
citizens of the separate Cantons. Democratic institutions 
were established everywhere, either in the form of Landge- 
meinden or of representative chambers. Finally, the central 
power was strengthened by taking all external relations out 
of the hands of the Cantons and by giving some effective 
powers to a majority of the Diet. 

The equalising of political rights and the restraint put upon 
the complete independence of the separate Cantons led to the 
request by a strong minority that the Allies should 
revise the Articles of Confederation afresh, and piJc t Federal 
it was only the influence of Alexander which 
prevented a restoration of the pre-re volution anomalies. 
Accordingly a Swiss commission, working with the approval 
of the Allies, drew up the " Federal Pact " of 1815. This 
measure followed closely the lines of the Act of Mediation. 
Additional Cantons constituted out of the districts which 
Napoleon had annexed to France, raised the membership of 
the league from nineteen to twenty-two, while the Diet was 
charged with the duty of organising and training the federal 
army, a scheme which the Emperor would have resolutely 
opposed. The other changes were in the direction of granting 
greater freedom of action to the separate Cantons. They 
were permitted to group themselves into alliances within the 
Confederation ; a democratic Constitution based upon an equal 
franchise was no longer definitely prescribed ; and freedom 
of belief and residence were not specifically guaranteed. From 
the Allies themselves Switzerland obtained the inestimable 
advantage of a declaration which made the country neutral 
territory in all future wars. 

The result of these changes was a general movement within 
the Cantons in the direction of modifying the democratic 
character of their local Constitutions. Towns like Berne, 
Basel, Zurich, and Lucerne took care so to apportion the 


representation between urban and rural districts as to give 
a preponderance to the former, while elsewhere property 
qualifications or indirect methods of election made their 
appearance. Nevertheless, the fifteen years before 1830 were 
a period of peace, recovery, and material progress. 

The Greek war of independence re-kindled democratic 
sentiment, and the July Revolution in France led to an 

organised expression of opinion all over the 
Democratic country, in the form of public meetings, in favour 
5]80? n of a wider extension of political rights. Almost 

without disorder or bloodshed the Constitutions 
of all the Cantons underwent during the years 1830 and 1831 
a transformation into representative democracies, and an 
attempt on the part of Berne to secure the intervention of the 
Diet in a contrary direction failed to meet with support. The 
change was followed everywhere by renewed reforming 
activity designed to foster trade, education, and freedom of 

In three of the Cantons, however, the innovations had 
been attended by serious disturbances. In Basel the rural 

districts, still finding themselves at a disadvantage 
putes naldis as compared with the city, rose in arms, and, 

though put down by the Federal troops and 
deprived for the moment of all political rights whatsoever, 
quietly reorganised themselves as a separate Canton, ultimately 
compelling the Diet to recognise them and to divide the vote 
of Basel into two half votes. A similar subdivision took place 
between Inner and Outer Schwyz. In Neuchatel the govern- 
ing classes, deferring to the policy of the King of Prussia, 
declined to go beyond the concessions he was prepared to 
make, thus provoking revolts which were sternly repressed 
after an unsuccessful attempt of the Federal authority to 
arrange a compromise. 

These three untoward incidents excited the alarms of the 
democratic party throughout Switzerland, and the Diet having 

refused to listen to a proposal that the central 
sarnen. f authority should guarantee the new Constitutions, 

seven of the democratic Cantons leagued them- 
selves together for purposes of mutual support (1832). This 
league was promptly answered by a conservative counter-associa- 
tion, the League of Sarnen, whose members threatened to with- 
draw from the Diet altogether and to hold a Diet of their own. 
The occasion of this threat was a growing wish on the part 


of the majority for a modification of the Federal Pact. In 
truth, the Constitution of 1815 had not proved 
uniformly successful. The Diet, whose members e ^ d s ^ ntof 
were fettered by their instructions, and which Federal Pact, 
could only act with a majority which it required 
the agreement of twelve Cantons to obtain, had proved 
singularly ineffective during the recent troubles. The'' r part 
of Directory, or Executive, was played in rotation by the 
Cantonal executives of Berne, Lucerne, and Zurich. Its policy 
was therefore seldom consistent and the duties were regarded 
as a burden by the three Cantons concerned. A resolution 
for the revision of these arrangements was accordingly pro- 
posed by the Canton of Thurgau, in 1831, and carried by 
fifteen and a half votes, upon which a draft scheme was 
prepared for the approval of the Diet. The new features of the 
scheme comprised the erection of a separate Federal Directory 
of five members, the freedom of the Cantonal representatives 
in the Diet from the control of instructions, except in questions 
of peace, war, or Constitutional change, and the extension 
of the powers of the central authority to cover the army, 
the customs, the post-office, and the coinage. 

The Diet met at Zurich in 1833, under the impression that 
a bare majority would be secured for revision. But Lucerne, 
one of the Cantons well-disposed to the measure, 
had made its vote conditional upon the approval 
of a poll of the people taken within the Canton, 
and clerical influence turned the scale against the proposal. 
For the moment, therefore, amendment was impossible. It 
was at this time that the Powers began to turn their attention 
to the protection afforded by the Confederation to political 
refugees. It must be admitted that there was considerable 
ground for complaint, as the raid organised by Mazzini upon 
Savoy was to demonstrate ; but Metternich's representations 
were not successful in inducing England and France to act 
with the other Powers. The League of Sarnen, however, 
derived sufficient encouragement from the threatening attitude 
of Austria, as well as from the failure of the revision scheme, 
to make an attack upon the independence of Rural Basel 
and Outer Schwyz (July, 1833). The attempt ended in 
disaster, the League was broken up and its members were 
forced to resume their connection with the Diet. 

Thus, for the moment a breach in the unity of the Con- 
federation was averted. There was, however, another influence 


making for division in the shape of religious disagreement. 
In 1834, certain Protestant Cantons concluded an agreement 
at Baden for the purpose of defending the rights of 
disputes. 8 the State against what they regarded as ecclesiasti- 

cal encroachments. This agreement was condemned 
by the Pope and was followed by political strife between Radicals 
and Clericals all over the country, in the course of which the 
Canton of Aargau decreed the suppression of its monasteries. 
The decree was a breach of the Constitution, inasmuch as the 
Federal Pact had guaranteed the religious houses, and it 
produced so much strife that in 1843 the offending Canton 
thought it prudent to restore four nunneries, a partial restitu- 
tion with which the Diet declared itself satisfied. Not so the 
Roman Catholic Cantons. Meeting at Lucerne, they pro- 
claimed that they would be contented with nothing short of 
complete restitution. Aargau was plainly in the wrong, and 
strove to confuse the issue and to gain support by raising 
a new question. It retaliated with a demand for the expulsion 
of the Jesuits. 

It was in vain that the Diet declared that the question of 
the monasteries was settled, and refused to entertain the 
proposal for expulsion. There was a desperate 
bund S nder " attempt on the part of the Radicals to overthrow 
the Roman Catholic government of Lucerne, 
attended with much bloodshed. Rioting was everywhere 
rife, and it was certain that the next President of the Con- 
federation would take up the Jesuit question. Under these 
circumstances the Cantons of Lucerne, Uri, Schwyz, Unter- 
walden, Valais, Fribourg, and Zug organised themselves as the 
Sonderbund (or " separate league "), pledged to require the 
restoration of the Aargau monasteries, and to resist, by Con- 
stitutional means or by arms, both the expulsion of the Jesuits 
and the amendment of the Federal Pact, and even, if 
necessary, to invite the support of foreign Powers (Dec., 
1845). The new league was not without its justification, but 
it is evident that the whole Confederation was in danger of 
dissolution if seven of its members could defy the general will, 
and it was decided that the Sonderbund should be put 
down. Some time was occupied in securing the necessary 
majority in the Diet, a majority which was not obtained 
without the forcible ejection of the representatives of one 
government at least, but by October Dufour at the head of 
the Federal Army was prepared to strike. 


In the meantime, events pointed to an interference by the 
Powers on behalf of the dissentient minority. The difficulties 
which had already arisen over the harbouring of 
refugees by the Confederation created a very 
natural unwillingness to see the Radicals in power, 
and the acceptance by the Congress of Vienna of the original 
text of the Federal Pact seemed to entitle Europe to express 
an opinion on the question of revision. Already Austria and 
France had been displaying a readiness to co-operate in general 
policy, the more so as Guizot was nervously eager to replace the 
entente with England, now irretrievably shattered owing to the 
Spanish marriages, by an Austrian alliance. But the French 
Government, though perhaps even more desirous than Metter- 
nich himself to intervene, was not prepared, in the face of a 
public opinion which would have deprecated interference as 
reactionary and uncalled for, to accept the Austrian suggestion 
that all the Powers should address identical notes to the 
Swiss Diet and should support the protest by effective action. 
A direct appeal from the Sonderbund for the good offices of 
Europe extricated Guizot from his dilemma. He proposed a 
European Conference, thus maintaining a judicial attitude 
while securing the main object of his policy. 

But England had more sympathy for the aims of the Swiss 
majority, and had nothing to fear from the shelter afforded to 
political exiles ; moreover, Palmerston owed Guizot a grudge, 
and was determined to repay him at the earliest opportunity. 
The English answer was deliberately delayed, and when at 
length it arrived, was found to contain nothing more definite 
than a series of suggested amendments. Meanwhile, Palmer- 
ston, acting upon his peculiar interpretation of Canning's 
principle of non-intervention, had urged the Swiss Directory 
to make short work of their opponents. 

The hint was accepted. Dufour occupied Fribourg with 
slight resistance, and then s ( truck straight at Lucerne and the 
Forest Cantons. On November 23rd, there was 
fighting all along the positions which Salis-Soglio 
had occupied to cover Lucerne. In this engage- 
ment, known as the battle of Gislikon, the recalcitrant Cantons 
were everywhere worsted. Thereupon their resistance col- 
lapsed, and when on November 20th a joint note arrived from 
all the Powers offering mediation (to which even Palmerston 
had agreed when he saw that it would be too late) the 
Sonderbund had ceased to exist. The reformers now carried 


their whole programme. The central authority secured com- 
plete control of external affairs, of the army, customs, coinage, 
and the postal service. It guaranteed the democratic character 
of the Cantonal Constitutions, and forbade the association of 
two or more cantons for political purposes. The central 
authority itself was reorganised as a legislature of two Houses, 
comprising a " Council of Estates," representing the Cantons, 
and a " National Council," representing the people. A new 
Federal Council of seven constituted the executive, at the head 
of which stood the President of the Confederation (1847). 

The overthrow of Louis Philippe's throne in the following 
February relieved the Swiss from any further fear of collective 

intervention from without, but the connection of 
NeucStei Neuchatel with the Prussian Crown was to lead 

to further trouble. Frederick William had never 
surrendered his rights, and in 1856 there was a Royalist rising 
against the new regime, which was overpowered, after a trifling 
initial success, leaving a large number of prisoners in the hands 
of the authorities. The possession of these hostages put the 
Swiss in a strong position, and when the Emperor Napoleon III 
came forward to mediate on behalf of Frederick William, the 
liberation of the prisoners was only effected as the price of a 
treaty by which Prussian rights in Neuchatel were finally 
surrendered (May, 1857). Yet, though this last success was 
delayed, Switzerland had already secured her internal unity 
and asserted her independence of external dictation at the 
moment when the revolutionary storm burst over Europe. 

The failure of his Swiss policy still further discredited the 
government of Guizot, and furnished a new weapon for his 

adversaries. But it was round the questions con- 
the franchise nected with the extension of the franchise that the 

conflict between the minister and the two wings 
of his opponents, led by Thiers and Odilon Barrot, chiefly 
centred. On the side of the Opposition it was urged that the 
highly centralised institutions of France paralysed the local 
independence of opinion upon which a representative system 
should be founded, and led to habitual abstention from the 
polls ; that an electorate of 200,000 citizens, based on a 
property qualification of 200 francs paid in direct taxation, 
was in no way representative of national opinion ; and that 
of the members of the Chamber very nearly one half were 
bound to the support of the government by office, commercial 
privileges, or some form of indirect corruption. Evading a 


direct answer to these criticisms Guizot took refuge behind a 
general statement that the steady majorities in the Chamber 
offered sufficient evidence that there was no demand for 
electoral reform in the country. In this inference there was 
in all probability this element of truth, that those who were 
dissatisfied with the Constitution were not to be contented 
with such remedies as the party of Thiers were prepared to 
recommend, a " reform to avoid revolution." 

The opposition accordingly set themselves to test the 
truth of the ministerial assertion, and at the same time to 
educate public opinion by a series of Reform 
Banquets. The banquets proved an immense 
success, and were extensively imitated by the 
leaders of republican and even of socialistic opinion. The 
government at once claimed authority to forbid such gatherings, 
thus exciting a series of heated debates in the Chamber, as the 
result of which Guizot's resolution faltered. He offered the 
King his resignation. Louis Philippe refused to hear of 
concession. It is indeed doubtful if Thiers and his followers 
could have postponed the crisis and saved the existing Constitu- 
tion by such reforms as they advocated. But the King's 
determination now made the crisis inevitable. 

A monster banquet had been planned in the twelfth 
arrondissement, and the Government and their opponents had 
agreed to make it a test of the legal aspect of the question. 
The banquet was to take place, arrests were to be peacefully 
effected, and the matter at issue was to be thrashed out in the 
law courts. The situation was altered by information received 
that a popular procession had been planned by the leaders 
of the extremists to increase the effect of the demonstration. 
Both parties in the Chamber were frightened. The Govern- 
ment withdrew their consent, and the opposition decided that 
no banquet should take place. 

Popular excitement and anticipation were, however, already 
beyond control. The leaders of the opposition, stung by the 
reproaches heaped upon them, published a 
denunciation of the general conduct of the 
Government. Rioting began on the 22nd of 
February, and on the 23rd the National Guard characteristi- 
cally refused to act against the mob. There was now one 
chance for Louis Philippe the resolute use of force. He did, 
indeed, move regular troops into Paris, but he still hesitated 
between incompatible courses of action. Paris had cast a 


nameless spell over its rulers, and the " whiff of grape-shot " 
was forgotten. Simultaneously with his resolve to employ 
the troops the King decided to yield the point at issue. Guizot 
was dismissed, and, when Mole had failed to form a ministry, 
Thiers was called to office. What chance conciliation had 
of succeeding, and it was slight, was destroyed by the entry 
of the troops and by the unpopularity of General Bugeaud, 
who commanded ; while any prospect of restoring order by 
force was lessened from hour to hour by the uncertain attitude- 
of the King, which made subordinates unwilling to commit 
themselves ; by faults of discipline, equipment, and supply ; and 
by the paralysing presence of the National Guard, who could 
neither be treated as enemies nor relied upon for support. 

Point by point Paris was abandoned to the mob. An inspec- 
tion of the National Guard by the King in the court of the 

Tuileries left little doubt of their untrustworthy 

character, and on the 24th, shortly after midnight, 

Louis Philippe signed an abdication in favour of 
his grandson, the Count of Paris. Another dynasty had suc- 
cumbed to the violence of the streets. 

For the real victors in the struggle were not to be contented 
with a change of ministry or with the substitution of one 

monarch for another. It was the monarchical 
Sovemment. nal Constitution itself , nay even the existing balance of 

classes in society, which was the point of attack. 
It was in vain that the Chamber met to make arrangements for 
the installation of a regency. The hall was invaded by an 
armed and excited mob, and the majority of the deputies 
dispersed, leaving a minority of the extreme Left to proclaim 
a provisional government with Lamartine at its head. These 
men sought a confirmation of their powers from an informal 
revolutionary assembly which had assumed authority in the 
name of the people at the Hotel de Ville, and consented to 
receive three representatives of this body as colleagues, of 
whom one, Louis Blanc, was the principal exponent of political 
socialism, and another, Albert, was himself a workman. 

The price exacted from the new government by the self- 
appointed leaders of the mob was the immediate proclamation 

of a republic, and thus a small committee of ten 
Kepubhc. nd men appointed by a minority of the Chamber at 

the dictation of the populace of the capital, 
ventured to impose a new system upon France without con- 
.sulting the wishes of the people. Nevertheless, guided by the 


wise moderation of Lamartine, and under the spell of his 
enthusiastic eloquence, the wilder spirits resigned themselves for 
the moment to dreams of a new and perfect order in the State 
and in society, while all who had anything to lose rallied round 
the Government as the only bulwark between them and anarchy. 
For the dreams of one section at least of the revolutionists 
took an intensely practical direction. For three days and 
two nights an excited crowd surged round the 
H6tel de Ville, and were only induced to disperse ^ h e r ight to 
after forcing their rulers to a momentous decision, 
a decision which virtually pledged the whole resources of the 
country to the task of satisfying the material wants of the 
urban population. Tji p gnvf>rnTP oy>f Q ptipri *% annalist. 
doctrine of " the ^flhti t" w ^-^ " and accepted with it the 
obligation to furnish employment for every unemployed work- 
man upon demand. It is doubtful if anything else would have 
satisfied those who were for the moment masters of the situation, 
nevertheless the step was fatal to the Second Republic. 

Louis Blanc now urged the appointment of a special Ministry 
of Labour to give immediate and practical effect to the resolution. 
But Lamartine was unwilling to allow carte blanche to men 
who had already formulated a programme. He evaded the 
demand by the nomination of a commission at the Luxembourg, 
headed by Louis Blanc and Albert, to study the labour problem, 
and to recommend remedies. Socialists and capitalists were 
alike furious. To the one class the concession seemed a 
surrender to anarchy, to the other a deliberate attempt to 
hamper reform. Meantime, the disorders of the revolution 
itself and the succeeding uncertainty had immensely extended 
the area of unemployment, and the authorities found them- 
selves obliged to accept the logical consequence 
of their declaration by opening the so-called 
" National Workshops." By the end of the first 
week in April, 59,000 names were on the books, by the middle 
of May the number had risen to 120,000. The workshops, 
though ill-managed and worked at a loss, found employment 
for 14,000 at 2 francs a day. The remainder received 1J 
francs for doing nothing, or for laboriously digging and filling 
up trenches in the Champ de Mars. 

Amid all the evidences of a coming storm, Lamartine kept a 
steady hand upon the helm, at once humouring socialist opinion 
while he strove to prevent the movement from degenerating 
into anarchy, and watering down with conciliatory phrases the 



fierce language in which the new republic would have made the 
announcement of its birth to Europe at large. But there was 

a crisis at hand which was to tax all his powers, 
th!?Smber 8to an( ^ one wn i n inspired even greater alarm 

among the leaders of the labour movement than 
among the more conservative Republicans. France was to 
be summoned to elect her representatives by universal suffrage, 
and the stewards would be called to give an account of their 
stewardship. There could be little doubt as to the general 
character of the forthcoming verdict, and the socialist wing 
declared for a postponement in the hope of " educating the 
country." A postponement was conceded, but a demonstration 
which was designed to secure a further delay was frustrated by 
the National Guard. The result of the elections exceeded all 
expectations. In Paris, out of twenty -four labour candidates, 
only three were elected. Extremists were everywhere rejected. 
Of the whole assembly actually one-fourth were Legitimists. 
These, with the Orleanist section, were ready for the time being 
to support the Republican government in maintaining order. 
Loud were the allegations made by the defeated party of undue 
influence exercised at the elections. 

If the elections meant anything they meant that 
Lamartine's temporising policy was no longer possible. The 

disappointed socialists and the Conservative 
the chamber, majority were ready to fly at one another's 

throats. When Louis Blanc resigned his position 
at the Luxembourg, the Assembly flatly refused to appoint a 
Minister of Labour. A commotion in Prussian Poland provided 
the opportunity for a demonstration against a government 
which cared nothing for the rights of oppressed peoples. The 
Chamber was invaded by a yelling crowd, who for five hours 
and a half indulged in every kind of noise and menace. But 
by the time that they had tired of mere tumult and proceeded 
to action in an attempt to establish their own leaders in 
authority at the Hotel de Ville, Lamartine was upon them 
with the National Guard, and dispersed them in all directions. 
The incident strengthened the party in the Chamber who 
were opposed to compromise. Proposals were now put forward 

for ridding Paris of the forces of disorder by 

closing the national workshops, which had 

attracted immense numbers of workmen from the 
provinces, idle and industrious alike. As a preliminary step 
all who had not resided in Paris for more than a year were to 


be furnished with the means of returning to their homes ; 
those for whom private employment could be found were 
required to accept it ; the younger men were invited to choose 
between work upon the provincial railroads and enlistment. 
These measures were ineffective, and the majority of the 
Chamber decided to force the unwilling government to take 
the bull by the horns. "We must," they said, "make an 
end of it." On June 21, the workshops were closed by decree, s 
the younger men were to be drafted into the army, the 
remainder were to be employed on railway construction. 

It was a declaration of war. Lamartine resigned, and General 
Cavaignac assumed the ominous office of military dictator. 
This time there was no hesitation ; a systematic 
plan of campaign was laid for the reconquest dues Paris Sub ~ 
of the capital, street by street and quarter by 
quarter. During four days' desperate fighting the troops were 
concentrated against one point of resistance after another. The 
H6tel de Ville, the Place de la Bastille, and finally, on June 26, 
the narrow streets of the workmen's quarter in the Faubourg 
St. Antoine itself were carried in succession. The Paris mob ; 
which had thrice overturned the throne, had met its match. 

But the victorious Second Republic already contained 
within itself the seeds of dissolution, for once again it was not 
the apparent victor that had won the battle, nor 
was it Republicanism that had triumphed. t. Constitu " 
Nevertheless, for the moment the Assembly was 
able to proceed to the drafting of a Constitution undisturbed 
by invasions and alarms. There was to be a Single Chamber 
elected by universal suffrage, to which the ministers were to 
be responsible. Over against the Chamber there was to be a 
President, by whom the ministers were to be appointed, 
himself elected for four years by the same constituencies which 
elected the Chamber (October, 1848). 

Such was for the time being the conclusion of the Paris 
Revolution. In its origin a social and industrial movement^ 
it bears little resemblance to the commotions in 
Central Europe, next to be noticed, either in its character of 
causes, progress, or results. But it unquestionably R^voMion^ 
precipitated outbreaks elsewhere. The historical 
associations of the first Revolution long perpetuated a con- 
fusion of mind which saw in every movement in Paris an 
invitation to rise for objects entirely unconnected with the 
issues of French politics. 



THE more closely the political storms of 1848 are studied the 
more clearly is it apparent that the whole set and trend of the 

main winds and currents is directed against the 
Character of fabric of that Austrian domination, which had 
Revolution! 1 so long overshadowed Europe. Amazing as is 

the scene of chaos and disintegration presented 
by the Hapsburg countries and their dependencies at the height 
of the revolution, still more amazing is the turn of events By 
which the ancient landmarks reappeared all but unchanged by 
the forces which had submerged them. But perhaps most 
amazing of all is the discovery of the slenderness of the 
foundation upon which Austrian influence had been reared. 
That Power which, behind the play of Metternich's diplomacy, 
loomed large in the imagination of Europe as the irresistible 
champion of reaction, stood in sober truth upon feet of clay. 
A short enquiry into the condition of the Empire will reveal 
three symptoms, which promised to be of the gravest con- 
sequence in an age of transition and change. 

First and most important of the three elements of weakness 
was one to which attention has already been directed. The 

Empire was in no sense homogeneous. It con- 
antagonisms sisted of a bundle of nationalities and fragments 

of lationalities connected with the central power 
and with one another by very various ties. Germany, 
politically disunited, was at least Teutonic ; Switzerland, 
racially divided, had been forced into unity by the stem logic 
of her history ; both were impelled by every circumstance of 
the age towards a closer union ; in the Austrian Empire, 
where political ties were loose, and national differences 
fundamental, every impulse born of the times was centrifugal. 
In the very heart of the Empire the plains on either side of the 
p rallel streams of the middle Danube and the Theiss were 
the home of the Magyars, a people of Turanian stock. This 
district was bordered to the west by Austria proper and its 


dependencies, comprising the upper valley of the Danube and 
the mountain district to the south and south-west, between 
that river and the Drave, where the inhabitants were almost 
exclusively German. East of the Magyar lands, and astride 
the Carpathians was the wild mountainous country of Transyl- 
vania, with Magyar and Saxon settlers here and there among 
a Roumanian population. Alike on its northern and southern 
frontiers the Empire was fringed with Slavonic peoples. Of 
these perhaps the most important were the Czechs of Bohemia 
and Moravia, along the northern border of Austria proper, 
though portions of both provinces had been almost entirely 
Germanised. Further eastwards, the frontier skirted the 
country of the Slovaks on the watershed of the Hungarian 
plain, and continued through the Galician provinces on the 
northward slope of the Carpathians, which had formerly 
belonged to Poland, where a Polish land-owning class were 
super-imposed upon a Ruthenian peasantry. South of the 
Drave from Belgrade westwards Serbs, South Slavs, and 
Croatians successively lined the frontier, while Slovenes occupied 
the extremities of the Alpine Chain, and Dalmatians fringed 
the Adriatic. Evidently there was a fair field for national 
aspirations and for national rivalries tending to disunion. 

Nor was a recombination into new national units the 
only danger, nor even a possible solution of irreconcilable 
impulses. A glance at the map will show that the Slavonic 
elements were geographically debarred from union. Moreover 
the Czechs, by virtue of the ancient independence of the Crown 
of Bohemia, had never parted with their desire for an autonomy 
implying the subjugation of the German population in their 
midst, while the Magyars continued to dominate the Slavonic 
districts of the south (which were still attached to Hungary as 
provinces of the Crown of St. Stephen), and never ceased to 
claim a similar right in Transylvania. To compel these 
peoples to live peacefully side by side and to co-operate for 
common ends this was the national problem which con- 
stituted the first and fundamental weakness of Austria. 

The second element of weakness is to be sought in the 
obsolete structure of society. The French revolutionary 
armies had never penetrated to the frontiers of 
Austria. Napoleon, though he had invaded her 
territories, had annexed no part of her German or 
Slavonic lands, nor had he attempted to remodel her government. 
Thus, in an age in which both the ideas and the material 


interests of Europe were rapidly assuming their modern com- 
plexion, the constitution of society remained feudal (p. 8). 
Aristocratic privileges were undiminished, the nobility re- 
mained exempt from taxation and military service, and were 
alone qualified for positions of authority in the State. The 
functions of local government were still attached to the 
ownership of land, and the great landowners administered 
justice and maintained order among their tenants. The con- 
ditions of agriculture were unchanged, the peasant cultivator 
was bound to the soil and occupied his holding subject to 
labour service upon his lord's domain. And all this time, 
owing to the expansion of trade and the growth of a middle 
class in the towns, the system was becoming less and less 
applicable to the conditions of the age, and stood in daily peril 
from the sparks of revolutionary agitation. This, then, was 
the social problem which threatened at any moment to give 
birth to a democratic political movement. 

National tendencies to disunion have often been restrained, 
and anomalous social conditions have been long perpetuated 

by firm government. The third element of 
GJv a era S ent. the weakness lay at the very heart of the system. 

Austria had fallen under that mortal disease of a 
bureaucratic government, the paralysis of the central authority. 
Government was the business of separate and independent 
departments each under its own head, and the divisions between 
their spheres of action were not distinctly drawn. Without 
some co-ordinating authority collision was inevitable, or, worse 
still, the neglect of such duties as seemed not strictly assignable 
to one department rather than to another. This authority 
had been in part supplied by the fussy and minute diligence 
of the Emperor Francis till his death, in 1835. Under his 
successor, Ferdinand, who was totally without ability, the 
attempt was made to provide it in the shape of a body styled 
the State Conference, presided over by an archduke and con- 
taining, besides an ornamental array of dignitaries, both the head 
of the foreign department and the head of finance. This body 
was empowered to call in other ministers and heads of depart- 
ments, as occasion might require. But the Archduke Louis 
was not a capable President, the dignitaries had little to re- 
commend them save their position, and Metternich was not only 
too busy to take the lead, but was at open war with Kolowrat, 
who directed finance. It is scarcely to be wondered that 
inaction spread from the head to the members, till the officials 


in Vienna and the provinces had even ceased to exercise those 
repressive measures against the Press and discussion upon 
which Metternich set so much value. If the Austrian system 
of government deserved to perish it was not by reason of in- 
tolerable oppression. 

Another influence contributing to the weakness of the 
bureaucracy was the fact that it did not exclusively hold the 
field. Joseph II's centralising policy had stopped 
halfway, and in every province there still existed Survivals of 
Provincial Estates, having some share in the local ment? ven 
government and enjoying upon sufferance the 
right of giving their formal approval to taxation. Composed 
entirely of nobles, with here and there representatives from 
privileged towns, these bodies had for a long while given little 
trouble to the authorities at Vienna. But a moment's re- 
flection will suggest that their very existence promised a basis 
for national resistance, while their medieval constitution 
challenged the exponents of popular ideas to make them a 
political battlefield. 

These two features had already made their appearance in 
Hungary many years before the revolution. Here the sur- 
vivals of the ancient Constitution were something 
more than local. There was a Diet which met at 
Presburg divided into two Houses, the " Table 
of Magnates," consisting of the greater nobles who sat by 
hereditary right, and the " Table of Estates," consisting of 
elected representatives, two from each of the fifty-five " County 
Assemblies." In 1825, this Diet had not been summoned for 
twelve years, during which the County Assemblies had 
endeavoured to extort its convocation by ineffectual resist- 
ance to taxation. From 1826 onwards it was convened every 
three years. The Diet which met in 1832 set itself boldly to 
demand concessions. Those suggested were partly national 
and partly political on the one hand, the more frequent visits 
of the Emperor, the recognition of Pesth as the meeting-place 
of the Diet, the use of Magyar as the official language, instead 
of Latin, and a greater influence for Magyar elements in 
the executive ; on the other, the abolition of feudal rights and 
the grant of an extended franchise. 

The double character of these demands deserves attention. 
It proved fatal to the combined programme, as it was after- 
wards to be fatal to the whole revolutionary movement. 
There was a practical unanimity upon the distinctively 


Magyar claims, but the Table of Magnates were not pre- 
pared for reforms which were either constitutional or social, 
and rallied to the Government. Simultaneously in Transyl- 
vania an attempt of the Magyar party in the Estates to secure 
a union with Hungary, which was accompanied with much 
illegality and disorder, was defeated by a dissolution. 

For the next decade the same demands were repeatedly pre- 
sented in the Diet with the same want of success. The 
Louis Kossuth so ^ e resu ^ f ten years' struggle was the recognition 
of the Magyar language, a concession which was to 
work in the end much evil for the Hungarian cause. But, in the 
meanwhile, a new figure had come to the front. For good and 
for evil the fortunes of Hungary were to be bound up with 
the character and career of Louis Kossuth. By profession a 
lawyer, he had been brought into contact with politics as 
secretary to one of the members of the Diet. In 1839 he had 
been imprisoned for the outspoken violence of his opinions, 
and on his release had turned to journalism and founded an 
opposition newspaper. At heart a democrat first and a patriot 
afterwards, he had accepted with all the fervour of his un- 
compromising nature the popular doctrines of the west. But 
he knew his countrymen too well to imagine that such views 
could be made to prevail without being intimately bound up 
with the historical nationalist impatience of control from 
Vienna. This feeling he exploited with all the powers of his 
fine presence and compelling oratory till national independence 
became to him an article of faith more binding than even his 
democratic creed. His enthusiasm and his determination 
fired his countrymen and made his name a power. But he 
was, to their misfortune and his own, essentially a party 
man, one whose moral earnestness in his own cause was 
rooted in bitter hatred of all that he opposed. He knew no 
compromise, and was a hard man for others to work with. It 
might have been confidently predicted that in such hands the 
manifold antagonisms of the Empire would break out into a 
notable conflagration ; it was equally certain that his were not 
the talents to bring a settled order out of the chaos. 

While patriotic nobles like Szechenyi, and moderate 
reformers like Deak, were discussing schemes of internal 
improvement, the news of the February revolu- 
tion fel1 like a bombshell into the midst of the 
Diet. On March 3, in a speech of burning 
eloquence, Kossuth flung down the gage to the Imperial 


Government. " From the charnel-house of Vienna," he cried, 
" a pestilential breath passes over us paralysing our senses and 
deadening our national spirit." Under his influence an address 
to the Emperor was carried, demanding a Constitution. The 
Hungarian revolution had begun. 

It was a strange consequence of a speech breathing anti- 
Austrian feeling that it should have contributed to precipitate 
revolution in Vienna itself. Nothing illustrates 
more forcibly the complete lack of accord between 
the Austrian Government and the Austrian 
people. The former had, in fact, never been German in spirit. 
It was non-national, and had aroused local prejudice as much 
at Vienna as elsewhere. We have already remarked the grow- 
ing laxity of the Austrian official world in the administration 
of a strict repressive code. By a thousand channels literature 
and ideas of a disturbing tendency filtered in and saturated a re- 
ceptive soil. Vienna was Europe's city of pleasure. The upper 
classes were given over to selfish amusement. The extremes of 
wealth and poverty met within its walls, and a half -starving 
working class needed only organisation and leaders to become 
formidable. Serious thinking was scarcely to be found outside 
University circles, where professors and undergraduates 
thought in characteristic superlatives. In an atmosphere of 
increasing unrest even the Estates of Lower Austria, though 
mainly representative of the landed classes, were tentatively 
petitioning for reforms. On March 13 their proceedings were 
quickened by the invasion of their hall by a mob of students 
and artisans. Kossuth's speech was read and his pro- 
posals acclaimed. Rioters and deputies together surged up 
to the Hofburg and met with conciliatory answers from the 
panic-stricken authorities. Fighting broke out in the streets 
between the populace and the troops, deputations besieged the 
palace, and here and there the crowd broke in. 

Before many days had passed, astonished Europe learnt 
that Metternich had fallen. His proffered resignation had been 
accepted with undignified haste, and the states- 
man who had so long dominated international FaU of Metier- 
counsels found himself a homeless exile in full 
flight for England. He has received less than his due at the 
hands of posterity. The history of his times has been recorded 
by writers professing the old-fashioned type of Liberalism 
prevalent in the sixties. Pre-occupied with the memories of 
a struggle still recent, they have not been magnanimous to a 


fallen foe in the hour of their victory, and have attempted to 
combine preternatural craft and singular fatuity into a single 
portrait. The presentation is not convincing. For reasons 
good to him and at least intelligible to us, the man set himself 
to stem the current of the times. Incidentally he played no 
small part in preserving the peace of Europe for forty years. 

It would be difficult to blame the new ministry under 
Baron Pillersdorf for resisting anything. A free Press, a 
National Guard, and other salient features of the normal 
popular programme were conceded. There was to be a new 
Constitution for all the Austrian dominions except Hungary, 
and a joint session of representatives from all the Estates of the 
Empire was to meet to draft it in the summer. 

The downfall of the central power set free in a moment all 
the nationalist aspirations of the provinces. Hungary led the 

way with a series of sweeping changes which left her 
Lawshi rch a democratic and practically independent State, 
Hungary. connected only with Austria by common allegiance 

to the Hapsburg Crown. Encouraged by the assent 
of the Emperor to the resolutions passed on March 3 in favour 
of a Constitution, the leaders determined to secure their pro- 
gramme beforehand from possible defeat at the hands of 
reactionary influences in the Diet. A great mass meeting at 
Pesth acclaimed with enthusiasm an outline scheme of "Twelve 
Points," and appointed a Committee of Public Safety. This 
evidence of popular approval decided the vote of the Diet. 
The so-called " March Laws " transformed that body into a 
modern representative assembly, and transferred its meeting- 
place to Pesth, abolished all feudal privileges and restrictions 
at one stroke, annexed Transylvania, and declared the right of 
Hungary to manage her own army and her own government. 
The Palatine, or Viceroy, the young and impulsive Archduke 
Stephen, supported these measures at Vienna, and, after some 
opposition, but with a haste which did not permit relations with 
the Austrian half of the Empire to be properly defined, the laws 
themselves, and with them a separate Hungarian ministry 
under Count Batthyany, received the Imperial approval. 

With the concession of the Bohemian demands for an 
autonomous government assuring equal rights to Germans and 

Czechs, and with the issue of the promised Con- 
ConsWtuSon an stitution for Austria and the remaining provinces, 

the transformation of the Empire seemed practi- 
cally complete. But three influences now came into play 


which were to shatter to fragments the flimsy work of patriots 
and Constitution-makers the widening breach between Vienna 
and the Imperial Government, the national hatred of Czech 
for German, and Slav impatience of Magyar rule. 

The occasion which brought the first of these into operation 
was the decision of the government to promulgate the promised 
Austrian Constitution at once, without waiting for 
the meeting of the Estates, in the hope of avoiding 
democratic amendments. A good deal of rioting 
ensued in the streets of Vienna, and the city was rapidly falling 
under the control of mob violence. In these circumstances the 
military governor decided to dissolve the committee to whom the 
ministry had delegated the management of the National Guard, 
and who had recently reconstituted themselves, with the ad- 
dition of some student representatives, as a Central Committee 
claiming a general right of interference. This ill-judged measure 
produced a renewed outbreak, followed by abject concession of 
the point at issue. The same results attended a later attempt to 
break up the students' " Academic Legion," and involved both 
the resignation of the ministry and the reorganisation on a 
firmer basis of the revolutionary Central Committee. There 
could be little doubt any longer where such authority 
as existed in Vienna resided, and the Emperor, 
starting as though for a country drive, removed 
himself out of the way of danger and coercion to Innsbruck. 

It was a tacit notification that the Government was no 
longer a free agent and an invitation to all in authority to act 
for themselves. Two self-contained men so interpreted the 
situation Prince Windischgratz, the military commandant at 
Prague, and Baron Jellachich, Ban, or Governor, of Croatia. 

The former now assumed complete independence of in- 
structions from Vienna, and proceeded to take a line of his own 
in a situation which was becoming very critical. The 
momentary union of Czechs and Germans to extort congress 10 
an independent Constitution for Bohemia had been 
short-lived. The Germans had been attracted by the ideal 
of a united Germany propounded at Frankfort (p. 244), which 
was to include all the non-Hungarian lands of the Empire, a 
suggestion which had also met with much sympathy among 
the Vienna democrats. No scheme could be more offensive to 
Czech national feeling, for it sounded the death-knell of the 
autonomy they had just secured. With the full consent of 
Windischgratz, Count Thun formed a provisional government 


in defiance of Vienna, and on May 1, a Pan-Slav Congress 
gathered at Prague to unite the Slavic races against the 
German nationalist programme propounded at Frankfort. 

But in the face of the fatal difficulty of geographical dis- 
persion it was not easy to give a practical direction to the Slav 
aspirations, and the leaders were literary men and historical 
visionaries without a consistent policy. The movement got 
out of hand. Extreme democratic demands, industrial 
disputes and race hatreds jostled one another, 
windischgratz Finally, the whole city broke into revolt and 
mtionatpS" assaulted the palace. Windischgratz, though his 
wife had been shot through one of the windows, 
endeavoured to restore order by peaceful means, even with- 
drawing his troops from the city to facilitate negotiations. But 
scarcely had an armistice been concluded than it was broken by 
the rioters. Windischgratz accordingly decided to make short 
work, and twelve hours' bombardment laid Prague at his feet 
(June, 1848). In the strife of Czech and German the monarchy 
had found a champion. The assembly at Frankfort, which 
congratulated him on his victory over the Czechs, received the 
ominous answer that he had merely put down a revolt against 
authority. The fate of Prague was being prepared for Vienna. 
Meanwhile, the Hungarian question had entered on a new 
phase. The Southern Slavonic fringe of the Empire had been 
abandoned to Hungary, and the Magyars, acutely 
Tension be- sensitive themselves to anything that savoured 
and e siavsf yars of German domination, were firm in their deter- 
mination to refuse to the other peoples attached 
to the Crown of St. Stephen the rights which they claimed 
for their own nationality. At the outset of the revolu- 
tion the Emperor had refused to the Southern Slavs the 
autonomy which had been conceded to Hungary and 
Bohemia. Pesth was not likely to be more yielding than 
Vienna. Slav and Serb deputations, and petitions from the 
non-Magyar elements in Transylvania had been met with an 
inexorable refusal to recognise their separate existence or any 
other official language save the Magyar tongue. The newly- 
appointed Ban of Croatia saw in the rising nationalist feeling 
an influence that might be turned to account in the interests 
of the Hapsburg monarchy. In June he summoned a Diet of 
Croatia and Slavonia to Agram. Hungary was quick to 
recognise the menace. A deputation headed by Batthyany 
proceeded to Innsbruck and obtained from the hesitating 


Emperor a pronouncement rejecting the claim of the non- 
Magyar peoples to independence, and suspending the authority 
of the Ban. But Jellachich was bold and astute enough to 
read between the lines. He paid a personal visit to Innsbruck, 
and on his return accepted dictatorial authority at the hands 
of the Diet. He was encouraged by the reverses sustained by 
the Hungarians against the Serbs under Stratimirovic, and 
firmly believed that a decisive success would secure his own 
recognition as the champion of the monarchy. 

Nevertheless, the Imperial Government had by no means 
made up its mind to accept the risks of conniving at racial war. 
For the moment its efforts were directed towards 
securing peace with the assistance of the moderate Hesitation of 

TT ill TJJI -i j i ^e Govern- 

party in Hungary, led by xJattnyany ana the ment. 
Palatine, but sorely hampered by the uncompro- 
mising attitude of Kossuth. Indeed, his intensely provocative 
measures seemed to argue a deliberate intention to defeat 
agreement. He had struck a blow at Austrian finance by 
his refusal to recognise Austrian notes, and by an issue of a 
paper-money of his own. In glaring contrast to Jellachich, 
who had bidden the Croats in Italy fight loyally for their 
Emperor, he had done everything to tempt the Imperial troops 
into the National Guard. He had openly supported the German 
national movement as likely to absorb the Austrian provinces 
and to leave Hungary free to go her own way. 

Meanwhile, the spirit of the government was rising. The 
Emperor had ventured back to Vienna, and the victories of 
Radetzky in Italy, shortly to be noticed, begat 
renewed confidence. Decrees were issued with- 
drawing the powers of the Hungarian Palatine 
and restoring Jellachich to his office. It seemed that all hope 
of agreement with the Magyar leaders had been abandoned, and 
that the long-deferred decision had been taken. Jellachich 
had only been waiting for the signal, and crossed the Drave at 
the head of a Croatian army. Deak and the moderate party 
in the Hungarian Diet abandoned politics in despair. 

But the patriotic Batthyany had remained at his post, and 
one more effort was made by the Austrian ministry, with his 
approval and that of a group of Hungarian nobles 
in the capital, to avert the armed conflict which / 
would make any peaceful settlement impossible. 
The Hungarian general, Lamberg, was sent to Pesth to assume 
supreme command of all the military forces in Hungary, 


Croatian and Magyar alike. If only the troops could be 
brought to a halt, a moderate ministry might be appointed and 
fresh negotiations attempted. It was too late. Kossuth 
carried a resolution through the Diet rejecting the new com- 
mander-in-chief 's authority, and the Pesth mob added a grim 
endorsement to the challenge by brutally doing him to death 
upon Buda bridge (September, 1848). 

The Magyars had now to fight in good earnest for their 
national existence. They began with a success. Jellachich 
was checked at Veldencze, and found it prudent to retire, 
losing the whole of his rear-guard, which was surrounded 
during the retreat. But Kossuth and his party had relied as 
much upon the Viennese as upon the national resources, and 
for the moment it seemed as though he was not to be dis- 
appointed. In July the promised general Assembly of Estates 
had met at Vienna. The progress of business was not rapid, 
for the gathering proved a very Babel of Slavonic tongues. 

But a committee was appointed to draft an 
at h vfenna? S entirely new Constitution, and one great and 

permanent reform was effected the abolition of 
all feudal burdens and privileges. Nevertheless there were 
few who had not realised that all the issues which the last six 
months had raised would be decided not in the debates of the 
Assembly, but on the plains of Hungary. The increasing 
firmness of the government and the persistence with which 
Latour, minister of war, was despatching all available troops 
to the front, both provoked and encouraged fresh popular 
commotions. The unexpected mutiny of a regiment which 
was entraining at the railway station brought the crisis to a 
head. Latour was hunted out and murdered, and Vienna 
was for the third time at the mercy of a raging multitude. 

But this rising, as it was the worst, was to be also the last 
of the series. The Emperor escaped to Olmiitz, the majority 

of the Assembly withdrew to Brunn, and Jella- 
vfenn C a. lon chich, with the Croatian Army, abandoning the 

Hungarian war, appeared upon the hills above 
Vienna, though with insufficient forces to attempt the reduction 
of the city. Here he was joined by Prince Windischgratz, 
who assumed supreme command, and demanded instant 
submission. But under the heroic leadership of Bern, a 
Polish refugee, Vienna was to offer a better resistance than 
Prague. At the end of two days' bombardment the defenders 
were still unsubdued, and a general assault did no more than 


establish a footing in the town. Nevertheless, capitulation 
was in sight when the spirits of the citizens were unexpectedly 
revived by the news that the armies of Hungary were in full 
march to the rescue of their allies. But Windischgratz was 
not to be baulked of his prey. He maintained his positions 
while Jellachich, detached to cover the siege, routed the 
relieving force at Schwechat. Next day Vienna surrendered, 
and ceased to influence the course of events (October, 1848). 

Hungary was thus left face to face with the united forces 
of the Imperial Government, a government now inspired by a 
spirit which rej ected all compromises. The lead had 
been taken by Count Felix Schwarzenberg, whose s 
political motto is said to have been " to speak out straight and 
to have 40,000 men to back the decision." Decisive measures 
were at least adopted. The Assembly was summoned to 
Kremsier, a place at a safe distance from popular influences. 
Ferdinand, who had compromised himself by his acceptance of 
the Hungarian Constitution was induced to abdicate, and his 
nephew, Francis Joseph, eighteen years of age, assumed the 
Imperial Crown. By the new Emperor's authority a Con- 
stitution was proclaimed for the Austrian dominions as an 
indivisible and united whole, and the Kremsier assembly, 
since it had been elected to give effect to arrangements 
consequent upon the division between Austria and Hungary, 
was accordingly dissolved. 

In Hungary there was still no thought of surrender. The 
Diet refused to recognise Francis Joseph, and prepared for 
war. In December, Windischgratz passed the 
frontier. There were two circumstances advan- *Jj Hungarian 
tageous to the Magyars the concentration of the 
bulk of the Austrian Army in Italy, and the immense size of 
their own country, offering as it did more than one centre of 
resistance. There were two grave difficulties the paucity of 
the national forces, and the fact that the frontier was encircled 
by enemies with separate and converging lines of approach . 
The two possible roads from Vienna were covered against 
the Austrian advance by the Hungarian commanders, Gorge i 
and Perczel respectively. Windischgratz took the 
southern road and beat Perczel at Moor. Gorgei, ^f^ al ^. 
a cool-headed soldier, who was no friend to Kossuth, dSchgrktz. m 
and whose policy was to gain time till both 
sides wearied of the struggle, declined to defend Pesth. The 
Diet accompanied by Kossuth retired to Debreczen. Even 


here its security was menaced by the southward movement of 
a Galician force under Schlick. But Windischgratz, after 
occupying the capital, moved so slowly as to allow Gorgei to 
get away through Waitzen into the mountainous districts 
on the Gran. Thence he proceeded to effect a junction with 
Klapka, who was facing Schlick, and together the two 
Hungarian commanders forced the Galicians back towards the 

But the conduct of these operations had not been decisive 
enough for Kossuth, and he now engaged the services of tw r o 
Polish refugees. Bern was sent to Transylvania, where he 
beat the Austrian troops and even ejected a Russian force 
which had responded to the appeals of the Saxon population 
of Hermannstadt and Kronstadt. Meanwhile, Dembinski was 
directed to assume the offensive against Windischgratz. He 
found the Austrian commander reinforced by the army of 
Schlick, who had worked round to the north, and he sustained 
a decisive defeat at Kapolna, between the Danube and the 
Theiss (February, 1849). 

But the defeat of Kapolna, which seemed to the Austrians 
to herald the end of the war, only roused the Magyars to fresh 

exertions. Gorgei, now as eager as Kossuth, 

pushed forward towards Pesth, drove the main 

Austrian army from Godollo into the capital, and 
following up his victory with the capture of Waitzen and the 
overthrow of another force at Nagy Sarlo, entered the fortress 
of Komorn. Pesth was evacuated by the invader, and in 
June Kossuth retook possession of the city. Before leaving 
Debreczen he had induced the Diet to shatter any lingering 
hopes of a settlement by proclaiming Hungary an independent 
republic and appointing himself " Governor-President." It 
was a fatal mistake. 

The step completed the alienation of Gorgei, who had 
occupied himself in the siege of Buda instead of advancing, as 

Kossuth desired, upon Vienna. He and many of 
Kepubi garian the other generals did not believe that the struggle 

could be maintained six months longer, and 
deplored the policy of war a Voutmnce. Indeed, the end was 
now near. The proclamation of the republic had incurred the 

hostility of a new foe, as relentless as he was 
?en5on. inter " powerful, in the person of the Czar Nicholas ; and 

Francis Joseph, whose resources were well-nigh 
as exhausted as those of Hungary, decided to appeal in his 


difficulties for Russian support under the terms of the treaty 
of Miinchengratz (p. 140). The peril of a brother sovereign, 
the dangerous proximity of his own Polish provinces to the 
Hungarian storm-centre, and his hatred of revolution were 
motives sufficient for the Czar. Without stipulating for 
advantage or reward he ordered his armies under Paskievich 
to cross the Carpathians. 

In the meantime, the active and ruthless Baron Haynau 
had begun a steady advance from the west, had seized Raab 
and forced Gorgei to abandon Komorn and Pesth. The 
Russian advance deflected the Hungarian retreat in a south- 
easterly direction, and the government was obliged to remove 
to Szegedin, a position uncomfortably near the hostile Serb 
province. Haynau followed up his success. Encountering 
Dembinski at Szoreg on the Theiss, he forced him further 
southwards towards Temesvar, thus defeating the plans of 
Gorgei, who was falling back before the Russians by way of 
Arad, with the object of effecting a concentration of the 
Hungarian forces. Haynau now delivered his final stroke, 
and at Temesvar brought Dembinski's army to an engagement 
which terminated in its decisive overthrow. 

The cause of Hungary was now hopeless, and Gorgei had 
already announced his resolve to make an end of the 
struggle. At Arad he forced Kossuth to abdicate 
and to invest him with full powers to act on his vaagos der f 
own discretion. Moving to Vilagos, he ordered 
his army to lay down their arms at the feet of the Russian 
commander (August, 1849). 

A terrible vengeance was exacted of Hungary. Schwarzen- 
berg determined to show no mercy, and Haynau's savage 
nature led him to improve upon his instructions. With many 
of the other leaders, Kossuth escaped to Turkey, where the 
Sultan, to his credit, refused to surrender him at the summons 
of Schwarzenberg and the Czar. Two years later he stirred 
the indignation of English audiences by his eloquent story of 
the sorrows of his native land. His hearers were perhaps 
ignorant of the severities of his own patriotic tribunals, and 
they could not foresee that seven years afterwards they would 
be crying out for vengeance, at least as thorough as the 
Austrian, upon the authors of the Indian Mutiny. 



THE impotence of the Austrian Government during the early 
weeks of the revolution and its increasing confidence in the 
later stages are alike explained by the course which events 
were taking south of the Alps. 

The Italian situation at the opening of the year 1848 was 
big with the menace of coming war. The national feeling was 
urging the governments along the road to which 
o?war. ence their own separate ambitions and grievances were 
pointing, and was assuming in consequence an 
increasingly anti-Austrian complexion. Charles Albert was 
nettled by the Imperial opposition to his scheme for a railway 
across the Lukmanier Pass and by a tariff barrier erected 
against Piedmontese wines. Pius was indignant at the 
menace offered to his territory and to his independence of 
action by the occupation of Ferrara. Tuscany, recently the 
scene of an agitation for reform, quivered with apprehension 
of Austrian intervention ; while the Grand Duke found him- 
self for the moment in sympathy with his people, owing to the 
support offered by Austria to the Duke of Modena's claim upon 
certain Tuscan districts, as a compensation for the absorption 
of Lucca in Tuscany. There was talk of a commercial league 
between the three aggrieved rulers. But any definite action 
depended upon Charles Albert ; and, though he would have 
resisted aggression, his ambitions were Piedmontese rather 
than Italian, and he was scarcely likely to take the initiative 
except with the prospect of securing some advantages in 

And in Lombardy the situation was slowly gathering to a 
head. The old easy acquiescence and the old indifference to 
politics were gone. By infection from Piedmont 
schemes of material improvement began to stir 
men's minds, and these led by insensible degrees 
to more burning questions, as when Lombard and Venetian 


shareholders combined to modify the route selected by the 
authorities for the new line from Milan to Venice. Austrians 
were shunned in Milanese society ; the election of an Italian 
as archbishop led to popular rejoicings in the streets, which 
were suppressed with exasperating violence ; finally the 
Central Congregation, consisting of representatives of elected 
local bodies more ornamental than effective, presented a 
definite petition for an inquiry into the causes of the pre- 
vailing discontent. 

There was as yet very little thought of resistance to the 
government. But it chanced, most unfortunately, that the 
controlling influence in the Austrian provincial 
counsels was that of Marshal Radetzky, a veteran atmiaS. ri ts 
martinet of the stiff est type, whose policy it 
was to chastise discontent with scorpions. He was reported 
to have said that three days of blood would guarantee thirty 
years of peace. The police became daily more minutely 
vexatious, while the half -humorous conspiracy to irritate and 
baffle them, which had been in progress since the archiepiscopal 
election, continued. Forbidden colours were worn, revolu- 
tionary tunes were whistled, or sung to nonsensical words, 
standing jokes greeted the appearance of soldier or policeman. 
At last some one hit upon something more practical. If 
patriots would but agree to abstain from tobacco it would 
serve the double purpose of proving the unanimity of popular 
feeling, and of inflicting a considerable loss upon the Austrian 
revenue. The joke, if it may be judged by its fatal results, 
was a gigantic success. For two days the few cigars that 
appeared in the streets were roughly confiscated by a laughing 
crowd. On the third day the troops organised a counter- 
move in the childish game, and swaggered up and down in 
places of public resort directing clouds of smoke into the faces 
of all who passed. Blows were exchanged, and resulted in 
cavalry charges and the use of the bayonet. Several persons 
were killed and more were wounded, and the breach between 
the citizens and those in authority was complete (January, 
1848). But the outbreak was delayed while popular excite- 
ment gathered energy from events occurring elsewhere. 

While most of the Italian rulers had been advancing, 
however hesitatingly, in the direction of national inde- 
pendence and even of reform, Ferdinand II of .,. . . , 
the Two Sicilies, had steadily retreated to a 
position of unyielding hostility to change. The contrast 


between the theoretical excellence of his government and its 
abominable character in practice provoked the activity of 
countless secret societies, and drove men who would have 
been moderates elsewhere to countenance the most desperate 
attempts. By January, 1848, revolutionary committees at 
Naples and in Sicily had agreed upon a simultaneous outbreak 
to extort a Constitution, and on the 12th Palermo rose. 
Townsmen and half-savage peasants from the surrounding 
country drove the troops by hand-to-hand fighting from street 
to street, and, rejecting every concession short of the Constitu- 
tion of 1812, forced the Neapolitan commander to abandon 
the city. Their example was everywhere imitated. Before 
the end of the month the citadel of Messina was the only posi- 
tion of first-rate importance held for the King. 

The Neapolitan conspirators had for the moment failed to 
play their part. But a peasant rising, magnified to gigantic 
proportions by report, accomplished by sheer 
terror what decisive action might have failed to 
win. The government dreaded a repetition of 
the scenes in Palermo. Even the troops wavered, and the 
revolutionists ventured at last to demonstrate in force. Then 
Ferdinand gave way without a struggle, and, with satirical 
professions of reforming zeal, granted of his own free will a 
Constitution to his people. The Neapolitan revolution gave 
definite shape to wishes which were widespread in Italy. 
Everywhere a Constitution became an object of desire, and 
what Ferdinand had granted no government which professed 
to regard the feelings of its subjects could refuse. 
tns 0nstitu ~ Charles Albert led the way, his anti-Austrian 
prepossessions overcoming his instinctive dread 
of all the accompaniments of parliamentary government. 
The Grand Duke of Tuscany had neither the wish nor the 
power to resist. Even Pius, divided between a benevolent 
desire for good government accompanied by material improve- 
ment and a sensitive terror of finding himself committed to 
measures inconsistent with the traditions and claims of his 
office, could not resist the stream. His popularity had rested 
on great expectations ; it was now barely maintained by a 
series of grudging fulfilments. Municipal government for the 
city of Rome, a regular ministry composed of laymen, finally, 
under the impulse of the news from Paris, a Constitution itself 
were successively wrung from him. 

Meanwhile, in Milan the friction between the populace and 


the authorities had never ceased, and important communications 
had begun to pass between the leaders of opinion 
and Charles Albert. An explosion was imminent, 
when the spark fell from an unexpected quarter. 
On March 17, Milan learned with mingled amazement and joy 
that Metternich had fallen. Next day Imperial edicts 
promising concessions were found posted in public places. They 
were indignantly scribbled over with the words " Too late," and 
the whole population, with no better arms than stones, glass 
bottles, tiles, and sticks, flung themselves in a fury of enthu- 
siasm upon Radetzky's garrison of 13,000 men. Barricades 
were thrown up in every street, every campanile pealed back 
frantic defiance to the volleys of the troops. Then came 
heavy rain, and the troops, soaked to the skin, demoralised by 
the resistance at the barricades, and pelted without inter- 
mission from the house-tops, gave ground everywhere. In 
vain Radetzky proposed an armistice. By March 22 he held 
no more of Milan than the Castle and the walls. Assisted by 
aid from outside, the citizens carried one of the gates. Lack 
of supplies and fear of a Piedmontese advance completed what 
the valour of the Milanese had begun. Radetzky evacuated 
the city, and began a steady retreat upon Venetia. Such were 
the " Five Days at Milan." 

Behind the retreating army Venice, astir with the tidings 
from Vienna, hesitated on the brink of an outbreak. The 
Venetians shrank from exposing their city in all her 
matchless beauty to the risks of bombardment. of h st R Ma U rk! ic 
The confident audacity of Daniele Manin, a lawyer 
of Jewish extraction, carried them through the crisis. He roused 
the people, he pushed the panic-stricken Austrians from one fatal 
concession to another, he extorted successively permission to 
enrol a National Guard, the surrender of the arsenal into his 
own hands, and finally the withdrawal of both army and fleet 
from before the city. 

The news of these successes was the call to arms for which 
Italy had been waiting. All over Lombardy and Venetia the 
provincial cities followed the example of the 
capitals. The Dukes of Parma and Modena fled. 
The Grand Duke of Tuscany declared war on 
Austria to secure himself from their fate ; and from his own 
dominions, from Piedmont, from the Papal States, even from 
Naples volunteers streamed to the front. Ferdinand talked 
of sending the Neapolitan army to the aid of the national 


movement. And now, in spite of a hesitating ministry, Charles 
Albert nerved himself to the great decision which was to deter- 
mine the future of his country and of his house. On March 23, 
1848, he offered his assistance to Lombardy and Venetia. 

It was an important accession of strength, for the victorious 
Milanese had neglected their opportunity. In the intricacies 

of the irrigated tract which lay between Milan 
retreat ky '* anc ^ ^ e Mincio, the operations of a handful of 

active irregulars might have brought Radetzky 
to a standstill before he could have reached a position of 
safety. But the Piedmontese army, ill-found in supplies and 
destitute of leaders of strategic ability, proved equally in- 
capable of accepting the gifts of fortune. An enterprising 
commander would have dashed down the Po past Radetzky 's 
left flank, would have seized Mantua and thrust the Austrians 
northwards with their backs against the disaffected Alpine 
districts of the Tyrol. Delay gave the enemy time to 
establish himself within the famous Quadrilateral. 

The position claims a short notice. From Lake Garda the 
Mincio runs south to the Po. At its egress from the lake 

lies the fortified town of Peschiera, and where 
later?i uadri ^ enters the marshes which border the Po stand 

the still more formidable defences of Mantua. The 
river thus offers a line of resistance between the plain of Lom- 
bardy and Venetia, with one flank resting upon the lake and 
the Alps, the other on the marshes of the Po. Parallel to the 
Mincio the Adige descends through the Brenner Pass, which 
affords the most direct line of communication with the Austrian 
capital. At the mouth of the pass stands Verona, and the 
possession of this fortress is therefore essential to the very 
existence of an Austrian army in Italy. Lower down the 
stream, eastward of Mantua, is Legnago, the fourth strong- 
hold of the group. The strength of the whole position con- 
sists in the fact that an enemy who forces the Mincio must 
turn north-eastwards against Verona, only to find his rear 
threatened by Mantua and his right flank by Legnago. 

In the first week of April the Piedmontese forced the 
passage of the Mincio at Goito, and established positions on the 

Sommacampagna, a line 'of hills facing Verona. 

Peschiera was thus isolated and exposed to siege, 

while bands of volunteers surrounded Mantua and 
occupied Venetian territory. But here Charles Albert's strategy 
failed him. A victory at Pastrengo gave him the chance of 


sending troops to stiffen the irregulars who had entered 
the Tyrol. Had he done so the Brenner might have been 
closed and Verona starved out. As it was, the invaders 
were dispersed, and the passes kept open. Meantime a 
month's delay was producing serious political effects. An 
immediate victory was essential to maintain enthusiasm, and 
at the beginning of May an assault was directed on the Austrian 
lines which covered Verona. Heroic fighting carried the centre 
at Santa Lucia, but the King, dispirited by failure elsewhere, 
and failing to perceive the tactical advantage of having cut 
the enemy's line, ordered a retreat. 

The check reacted unfavourably upon a situation which 
was already becoming serious. The fear of annexation at the 
hands of Piedmont, a fear to which the actions of 
some of her agents had given some countenance, weakening of 

, , c , ,. < ,1 the national 

was beginning to weaken the resolution of the movement. 
governments. The Pope's nationalist feeling, 
genuine as it was, proved not strong enough to neutralise his 
aversion to war against a Catholic power. It was very un- 
willingly that he had allowed his ministers to despatch a force 
under Durando to support the Piedmontese, and at the end of 
April he issued an " Allocution," in which he proclaimed his 
hatred for war, and his equal love for all peoples. It was not 
his intention to announce defection, but few failed to take his 
words in that sense. He had now implicitly recognised the 
impotence which his office imposed upon his sympathies. As 
Mrs. Browning wrote of him 

" His heart beats warm, 
But, like the Prince enchanted to the waist, 
He sits in stone and hardens by a charm 
Into the marble of his throne high -placed." 

The clergy accordingly began to drift away from the nationalist 
cause. Ferdinand of Naples, among many other perplexities, 
had never troubled himself with sympathies. The Constitution 
had not rescued him from his difficulties ; it had not satisfied 
the reformers, alleviated distress, or put an end to the danger- 
ous disorders of the country. Taking alarm at the symptoms 
of another rising, he massed his available troops in the capital 
and let them loose upon the populace. One day of pillage and 
slaughter made an end of all resistance, and left him free to 
recall those regiments which were already on their way, under 
Pepe, to the seat of war. The ideal of an independent federa- 
tion of Italian States had become impossible. 


Had Charles Albert been a man of another mould it is just 
possible that an appeal to all the peoples of Italy might have 
anticipated the later union under the Piedmontese 
LombardV and Crown. But as it was, even North Italy was 
Venetia with falling asunder. Lombardy had not lived up to 
the promise of the Five Days. Little attempt had 
been made to form a Lombard army, a republican faction was 
frankly opposed to union with Piedmont, and the Press fiercely 
criticised the conduct of a war which the people had left to 
be fought out by others. Under the circumstances it is not 
surprising that Piedmont should have urged the immediate 
" fusion " with herself of Lombardy and Venetia, thus fore- 
stalling arrangements which were to have been left till the end 
of the war. Plebiscites in Lombardy and in Venetia decided 
for fusion ; the city of Venice, where Manin had proclaimed 
the Republic of St. Mark, followed with more hesitation. But 
the union did not make for strength. The other governments 
saw their suspicions confirmed, and the traditional French 
jealousy of a powerful State in Northern Italy was aroused. 

Meanwhile, the war had entered upon a new stage. Charles 
Albert, sadly hampered by the lack of any recognised control 
over the movements of his allies, had been obliged 
to leave Venetia to the doubtful protection of 
Papal troops and volunteers, and at the end of 
April an Austrian relieving army, under Nugent, burst over 
the eastern passes by way of Udine, routed a body of volunteers 
at Cornuda, while Durando and the Papal troops remained 
inactive, and, after failing to capture Vicenza, reached Verona 
from the north-east. Encouraged by the slowness of the 
Piedmontese, Radetzky now ventured upon a bold counter- 
stroke to save Peschiera. By a perilous flank march he moved 
round the Piedmontese right to Mantua, crossed the Mincio, 
and turned north, thus menacing the enemy's rear. But at 
Curtatone he met with a gallant resistance from a small 
Tuscan force, which, though overwhelmed by numbers, secured 
enough time to enable Charles Albert to prepare another line of 
defence at Goito and to bring the advance to a standstill. The 
stroke had failed, and Radetzky fell back hastily upon Mantua 
to learn that Peschiera had fallen. 

Fortune had now placed in Charles Albert's hands the 
choice between two brilliant opportunities. He might have 
flung himself upon Verona and carried the town in the absence 
of its defenders, or he might have struck hard at the flank of 


Kadetzky as he retired towards the Brenner. He did 
neither, and by his inactivity even allowed his opponent to 
compel Durando to surrender Vicenza, thus ensuring the 
Austrian communications with the eastern passes. During 
the pause which followed, Charles Albert made the mistake of 
lengthening out his line in order to undertake the blockade 
of Mantua. Accordingly on the arrival of fresh Custozza 
reinforcements, Radetzky resolved to take the 
offensive and to penetrate the Piedmontese centre on the Som- 
macampagna. The heights round Custozza were carried, and, 
in spite of the gallant leading of the King of Piedmont's two 
sons, who twice over stormed positions in the heart of the 
Austrian line, want of co-operation and the failure of the 
commissariat compelled a general retreat. 

The line of the Mincio was already broken through and had 
to be abandoned. But the situation was not yet hopeless. 
The army might have crossed the Po and threatened Radetzky's 
left, if the King had not refused to uncover Milan. The line of 
the Adda might have been held against the Austrian advance, 
but his quixotic resolve to defend Cremona enabled the enemy 
to anticipate the attempt. The defeated army struggled back 
to Milan in the opening days of August. Here the spirit of 
the people seemed to give promise of a successful defence. 
But supplies were scarce, the artillery had gone astray, and, 
rightly or wrongly, his military advisers put 
pressure on the King to capitulate, in spite of 
his promises to the townsmen. Overwhelmed 
with shame, assailed in his quarters by the enraged people, 
whom he had come to deliver and had ended by abandoning, 
the unhappy Charles Albert was extricated by 
his troops, and with them withdrew from the 
city, amid the curses of the Milanese. On August 
9, by the armistice of Vigevano, Piedmont abandoned all for , 
which she had fought. 

Italy, in the bitterness of failure looked angrily about for 
victims upon whom to vent her disappointment, and found 
them in the Moderate party and in the House of 
Savoy, who were accused of mismanaging the 
national movement. Everywhere democratic 
feeling gained in intensity and won fresh adherents. In 
Piedmont these tendencies took almost entirely the form of an 
eager desire for the renewal of the war ; elsewhere the ideas 
of Mazzini were recovering their popularity, and they reacted 


in the first instance upon the domestic situation. At Rome 
the " Allocution " had all but destroyed the popularity of the 
Pope. He had been obliged to accept a ministry of a demo- 
cratic complexion under Mamiani, who had tried quite vainly to 
mediate between the demands of the people and his master's ill- 
concealed restiveness. At the news of Custozza, the harassed 
minister threw up the desperate game, and, at the end of August, 
Pius placed Pellegrino Rossi at the head of the government. 

Rossi had been a professor of law at Bologna, and after- 
wards at Paris, he was a supporter of national independence, 

and a friend of reform, and he had suffered 
Rossi try f exile for his opinions. But his residence in 

France and his friendship for Guizot had 
coloured his views with a strong preference for a policy 
conforming to the ideals of the middle classes. He 
stood for the repression of disorder and for financial and 
administrative improvement. Pius was well pleased with an 
adviser who set himself to curb disorder, and treated the 
Temporal Power as an axiom. But the most divergent 
interests united in hostility towards the minister whose 
unsympathetic and harsh personality scorned the enthusiasms 
of the democrats, and whose hand fell heavily upon the laziness 
and corruption of the officials. On November 15, as he was 
entering the Chamber, he was struck down by the dagger of 
Brunetti, son of the demagogue, Ciceruacchio. 

The democrats, who now controlled the streets and 
terrorised the Chamber, advanced in procession to the Quirinal 

and late in the day attacked the gates. Some 
Pius h ix f days afterwards the Pope left Rome in disguise, 

and threw himself upon the hospitality of King 
Ferdinand at Gaeta, where he fell under the reactionary 
influence of Cardinal Antonelli, which was to dominate the 
rest of his life. Rome, after an interval of consternation, 
accepted the challenge. A Constituent Assembly was elected 
by universal suffrage, which, on February 8, proclaimed the 
Roman Republic. Garibaldi, fresh from the last desperate 
guerilla struggle in Lombardy, and Mazzini, full of hope for 
the realisation of his visions, had hastened to the spot. 

Fierce rioting in Leghorn, and agitation all over Tuscany 
had brought into power a democratic lawyer, named 
Guerazzi, whose policy was to restore order by liberal con- 
cessions, coupled with a firm attitude towards violence. A 
Constituent Assembly for Tuscany was promised by the Grand 


Duke ; but when the democrats at Rome proposed a Con- 
stituent Assembly for the whole of Italy, and his own ministers 
pressed him to acquiesce, he left Florence suddenly, rather 
than give his tacit approval to the deposition 
of the Pope. After three weeks of painful 
indecision between the alternatives of throwing 
himself upon Piedmontese or upon Neapolitan support, he 
accepted an invitation to Gae'ta. Already, on February 8, 
a meeting of Florentine citizens in Orcagna's Loggia had 
established a provisional government. 

Piedmont all this while, though completely out of touch 
with the democratic movements, without hope of help from 
abroad and divided in opinion at home, was 
drifting, under the influence of wounded pride and 
indignation at Radetzky's severities in Lombardy, 
into a renewal of the war. On March 12, Charles Albert 
denounced the armistice, and Chrzanovski, a Polish refugee, 
who had displaced the discredited Piedmontese generals, set 
the army in motion. It was open to the new commander 
either to hold the Ticino, or to cross the Po and rouse Parma 
and Modena against the Austrian flank. But the former 
course was too passive to promise decisive success, and the 
latter would uncover Turin. Chrzanovski instructed Ramorino 
to hold a position at La Cava, near the mouth of the Ticino, 
to guard the principal approach from Lombardy, while he 
himself with the rest of his forces struck across the river 
higher up its course in the neighbourhood of Magenta with 
the object of reaching Milan. But his own advance was 
slow, and Ramorino disobeyed orders, with the result that 
when Radetzky appeared with every available man before 
La Cava no serious resistance was possible. Chrzanovski 
was obliged to hurry back, only to come in contact near 
Mortara with the Austrians now moving north to intercept 
his retreat. Of the two columns in which his troops marched, 
one was crushed, the other, though signally successful, failed to 
render the support which would have turned defeat into victory. 
The whole army retreated to a position covering Novara. 

Here, on March 23, it was attacked by the enemy's advance 
guard in greatly inferior numbers, and nothing stood between 
the Piedmontese and victory but the insane 
refusal of their commander to permit a charge, ovara f 
headed by the King's sons, which would have 
SAvept the Austrians off the field. The opportunity was fleeting. 


and as the afternoon wore on the enemy's reinforcements 
came up. 

Charles Albert, fighting like a paladin, had courted death 
throughout the day, and, when night fell and his generals 

would no longer resist, he resolved to sacrifice 
abdicates! bert n ^ s crown to save his country from intolerable 

terms. Before morning he had abdicated, and 
was on his way to far-off Portugal, there to die a broken and 
disappointed man. Long as he had hesitated, often as he had 
compromised, mingled as his motives had been with baser 
elements of ambition and fear, he had never abandoned his 
sympathy for the national cause, and on the two supreme 
occasions had made the right decision. Italy justly inscribes 
the name of the Royal Waverer upon her roll of martyrs. 
And Piedmont was not yet decisively beaten. The strength 
of her army, the attitude of England and France, the resolute 
determination of her people to suffer no dishonour forced 
Austria to negotiate. 

But elsewhere the flowing tide of reaction gathered strength 
from the news of Novara. Ferdinand II had weathered the 

storm when he recovered his hold upon the capital, 
Sapies eacti n ' an d now traded astutely upon the divisions of his 

enemies. By a pretended respect for the Con- 
stitution he induced the reforming party in Naples to look on 
while his generals harried the revolted districts of Calabria 
into submission, and he prepared to undertake the more 
difficult task of reducing Sicily, with full confidence that the 
islanders would find little sympathy on the mainland. For, 
unable to obtain the concessions they desired, the Sicilians had 
embarked upon a purely separatist policy, in which the 
questions of national unity and the expulsion of the Austrians 
had no place. Confident in their insular position, and strong 
in the hope of French and English support, they declared 
Ferdinand deposed, and proceeded to elect Charles Albert's 
second son, the Duke of Genoa, as their King. But the Duke 
delayed his acceptance, and in the meantime their leaders had 
shown themselves unequal to the tasks of keeping order among 
the half -savage population, and of raising an effective army. 
In September the blow fell. A Neapolitan expedition landed 

at Messina. A ruthless bombardment was fol- 
o^Meslfina! 611 * lowed by a savage massacre, and, gallantly as the 

ministry under Cordova struggled on at Palermo, 
it was the beginning of the end. Ferdinand now offered 


terms. His ultimatum contained promises of a Constitution 
and of a separate parliament, but so guarded by reservations 
of his prerogative as to make them illusory. Sicily elected 
once more to try the chances of war. But the resistance of 
the eastern coast under the Pole Mieroslavski was crushed by 
the capture of Catania, and the ultimatum had already been 
accepted when the rising died as it had been born, in a fierce 
struggle among the streets of Palermo. King " Bomba," as he 
was henceforward called, had recovered his authority without 
foreign assistance, and proceeded to use it without deference 
to foreign scruples (May 9, 1849). 

In Tuscany Austrian intervention was scarcely needed to 
accelerate the end of a movement which was collapsing from 
its own inherent weakness. Nobles and Moderates 
were alienated from Guerrazzi's government by L5pokL ion f 
its relations with the sacrilegious Roman Republic ; 
the peasants dreaded nothing more than being dragged into 
war ; the radical factions were irritated by necessary measures 
of coercion. A riot in Florence brought the government to 
the ground, and a new provisional authority declared for the 
Grand Duke (April, 1849). But the Austrians were deter- 
mined not to miss their opportunity. On the pretext of 
reducing Leghorn to order, D'Aspre occupied both that city 
and Florence, and from the moment when Leopold returned in 
July he was as much an Austrian vassal as the Dukes of Parma 
and Modena, who owed the restoration of their thrones entirely 
to the invader. He not unnaturally followed their example in 
making an end of Constitutional Government. 

But it was on Rome that the eyes of Italy and of all Europe 
were fastened, for round the walls of the Eternal City was being 
enacted a drama of surprises in which two of the 
heroes of the revolution played the principal 
parts and a new actor made his debut upon the 
European stage. Mazzini, the prophet of United Italy, had 
become the head of a Triumvirate charged with the government 
of the new republic. Men watched with amazement the 
visionary revolutionist, while bating nothing of his enthusiasm, 
^tting himself with wise tolerance and practical capacity to 
the difficult work of reform, and winning alike the hearts 
and the reason of his subjects. 

At his side was Garibaldi, the man of action, a born leader 
of men, with his picturesque following arrayed in the red 
shirts and wearing the long hair which they had adopted on 


the Pampas. His leonine face and yellow beard, his generous 
sympathies and his kindly heart won all who came in contact 
with him ; while his confused and illogical intel- 
ligence made him ever the instrument of other 
men's designs or of his own prejudices. " Heart of gold and 
brains of an ox," D'Azeglio said of him. He was at this 
moment the sword of the infant State, great in fight but by his 
perversity a thorn in the side of those in authority. 

And Rome had need of him. Every Roman Catholic State 
was eager to defend the Pope, and, while others deliberated, 
France acted. Louis Napoleon, now President 
Expe^ r it?on h of tne Second Republic, stood in need of the 
Catholic vote, and was prepared to pay a price 
of which he could not then foresee the fatal consequences. At 
the end of April a French expedition under Oudinot landed 
at Civita Vecchia. Under cover of friendly professions it 
attempted the surprise of two gates reported to exist in the 
city wall where it skirted the Vatican. One gate proved to 
have been long since blocked up, the other, situated in an angle 
of the wall, exposed the assaulting troops to a deadly converging 
fire. A sortie against the French flank and line of retreat 
completed Oudinot's discomfiture, and compelled him for a 
while to await reinforcements. 

Meanwhile Bomba, eager for the credit of restoring the 
Pope, had occupied the Alban Hills. Garibaldi, moving out 
upon Palestrina to the north-east to threaten the 
Neapolitan line of retreat, was attacked there, 
and repulsed the enemy. Obliged by the attitude 
of the French to return to Rome, he was not able to develop 
his original plan till ten days later, when, advancing to Velletri, 
south-east of the Alban Hills, he forced the retirement of the 
Neapolitans, fell upon their flank in retreat, and scared them 
into a hasty evacuation of the Papal States (May, 19). 

On June 3, the French abandoned the negotiations which 

had been proceeding without effect, and surprised at dawn the 

Villa Corsini and the neighbouring buildings, which 

Eome!, e8eof formed an outpost covering the gate of San 

Pancrazio in the western wall of the city. All day 

by charge after charge, conducted with heroic gallantry, 

but directed with little tactical skill, the defenders strove for 

the recovery of a position from which the French could support 

operations against the wall. But all in vain. From that 

moment the Republic was doomed and though, when the 


artillery had effected several breaches, a nine days' desperate 
defence was offered on the line of the wall, there remained by 
June 30, no choice but to submit. Only a small but gallant 
band accompanied Garibaldi in a dash through the very 
midst of pursuing columns across country to San Marino, and 
thence finally dispersed. 

Venice alone still maintained the desperate struggle. On 
the news of the armistice of Vigevano, Manin had repudiated 
the decree of fusion with Piedmont. In a city 
well supplied with provisions, loyally supported 
by the military leaders under the control of the 
Neapolitan Pepe, and seconded by a spirit of noble self- 
sacrifice among the citizens, he held out against assault and 
bombardment till the end of August, showing all the 
enthusiasm, wisdom, and serene constancy of a great leader. 
And when famine and cholera supervened, and foreign assist- 
ance was no longer to be hoped for, he won the assent of his 
reluctant countrymen to a capitulation by which they were 
spared the worst humiliations of defeat. 

Thus all Italy lay prostrate. The enthusiasm of the early 
months of the revolution had been noble and inspiring. But, 
as Cavour afterwards said, there were " too many 
songs about freeing Italy . ' ' Many indeed there were ^f JJJJJ 18 f or 
who could surrender themselves to the inspiration 
of the Five Days, or of the fight round the Porta San Pari- 
crazio, but few had learnt the discipline, self-restraint, and 
self-sacrifice which sends men to a distant war and keeps them i 
in the field. The Constitutional movement had proved in the ! 
event a source of weakness, giving an outlet to all the / 
jealousies of party and of class. Worst of all, perhaps, ' 
Piedmont had not produced a general nor Italy a states- 

Amid the general ruin the constancy of Piedmont was 
winning the respect of Italy and of Europe. In the crisis of 
her destiny she had found the King she needed in L 

Victor Emmanuel II. His blunt, hearty manner, manuei E main- 
his straightforwardness of speech and thought, g^Stuto 6 
his sterling common-sense, firm will and solid 
reverence for fact were to be no small part of the resources of 
Italy in her next struggle. After Novara he firmly refused to 
continue a hopeless war, and twice dissolved his parliament 
rather than yield to the cry for fighting to the bitter end. 
With equal firmness he declined all offers that Austria could 


make to induce him to abolish the Constitution. And this 
loyalty to his father's promise to observe the Statute was 
a fitting introduction to the new reign. The Royal Waverer's 
son was to be known as II Re Oalantuomo, the Royal Man 
of Honour, long before men learnt to style him King of United 



THE news of the February revolution in Paris found Germany 
in a peculiarly receptive mood. For years, in spite of repressive 
measures, men had been thinking, discussing, 
writing, and even intermittently demonstrating, Germany and 
while on the restricted stage of the middle-sized Revolution!^ 
States the methods of popular agitation and 
Constitutional government had been vigorously if somewhat 
crudely rehearsed in a variety of phases. Moreover, in 
Germany, where the agitation had been from the first some- 
thing of an intellectual movement, the imagination of the 
educated classes, who were principally affected, responded 
readily to the stimulus of a distant catastrophe, which would 
have been inoperative elsewhere without the aid of intolerable 
local grievances. 

With singular unanimity the fires of revolutionary activity 
were everywhere re-kindled, and ran sputtering and flaming 
through the States of the Confederation. A 
detailed account of these movements would serve Revolutions in 

j mi i i j the German 

no good purpose. There was a general demand states. 
in the towns for wider individual liberty and 
increased popular control, while in the country districts the 
peasants were in arms against the landowners. There was 
little power of resistance in the Governments, and concession 
was the order of the day. Thus, for the moment the forces of 
" particularism," as the jealous policy of the territorial 
princes has been called, were paralysed. 

The time was therefore favourable to plans for the estab- 
lishment of effective national unity. An organised national 
party had been some time in existence, and in 
October, 1847, a public meeting at Heppenheim 
had accepted a tentative programme for the 
remodelling of the Confederation on national and popular 



lines. On March 5 a self-chosen gathering of fifty-three 
reformers assembled at Heidelberg, and proceeded to take 
definite steps. A committee of seven was appointed to 
summon a Vorparlament, or preliminary convention, to be 
elected on a wide popular franchise. This committee pro- 
visionally accepted a scheme submitted by Heinrich von 
Gagern, by which the Constitution to be established was to 
consist of a President, an Upper Chamber representing the 
governments of the separate States, and a Lower Chamber 
elected by the people. The central authority thus constituted 
was to take over the entire regulation of commerce, foreign 
affairs, and national defence throughout Germany. 

It is clear that in the long run the success or failure of 
these proposals would depend upon the attitude of the govern- 
ments of the separate States, who alone corn- 
Attitude of manded the forces necessary to crush or sustain 
the national movement; for the old Diet, conscious 
of its weakness, had already assumed a friendly neutrality. 
Austria, occupied with her own revolution, could for the time 
being be neglected. A considerable proportion of the princes, 
influenced by their newly-appointed progressive ministries, had 
given in their adhesion. Bavaria indeed was openly hostile. 
But neither the support nor the opposition of the minor 
princes could be effective to counteract the weight of 
Prussia and of the Prussian army as soon as the inevitable 
moment arrived when it must be thrown into one or other 
of the scales. 

And as yet Prussia had not spoken. Frederick William IV 
was not insensible to the glamour of the nationalist ideal of 
unity. But he held two strong prejudices which 
were i n tne en ^ to make it impossible for him to 
contribute to its realisation in practice. One was 
his loyal veneration for Austria. For the moment Austria 
had no attention to spare for Germany, but her influence was 
to tell later, and there could be little doubt in which direction 
it would be exercised. The other was his rooted distrust of 
all movements of a democratic character, which led him from 
the outset, with the approval of his friend and confidant 
Radowitz, to suggest an alternative method of arriving at 
unity through the action of a congress of German princes. 
The position of the princes was, in fact, the crux both of the 
Prussian and of the popular scheme, for, as the latter could 
scarcely count upon their ultimate neutrality, the former was 


ay little likely to secure their initial consent, in view of the 
certain diminution of their authority. 

But events now occurring in Berlin were to efface Prussian 
influence in Germany almost as completely as that of Austria 
had already been obliterated. At the beginning of 
March disturbances were rife in the western and Jays '^Berlin, 
eastern provinces, and Berlin was full of ominous 
symptoms of growing agitation, stimulated by an influx of 
alien refugees. The ministry, on the eve of retiring from an 
impossible position, had induced the King to put his signature 
to a decree convoking for the second time the Combined 
Estates (p. 196), and declaring in favour of a national repre- 
sentative Constitution for Germany (March 18, 1848). On the 
news of these concessions dense crowds began to throng the 
approaches to the palace. Their attitude became more and 
more menacing as the morning advanced, till it became 
ultimately necessary for Von Prittwitz, who commanded the 
troops, to attempt the task of clearing the palace square. A 
body of dragoons, covered by infantry on either flank, was 
drawn across the open space and began slowly to push the 
crowd back. Some little scuffling ensued, one or two troopers 
drew their sabres, and two muskets were let off by accident. 
Not a soul was injured. But the incident was enough to turn 
the ugly temper of the crowd to downright fury. With cries 
of " Murder," and " Treason," they fell to raising barricades, 
where fighting was soon in progress between the rioters and the 

The Prussian soldiers were no National Guards to fraternise 
with rebels, and Von Prittwitz would speedily have cleared 
the streets and made Frederick William master 
of the situation in his own capital and free to ^^t? 8 
make his own decision on the German question. 
But the King could not make up his mind to order an advance. 
He was torn by irresolution and urged by well-meaning 
advisers along the path of concession on which he had already 
set foot. Most of all he was influenced by the horror of finding 
himself at odds with the people, whose devoted loyalty to his 
person was one of his illusions. Clinging to this belief he 
issued a proclamation calling upon " his dear Berliners " to 
disperse, and promising to withdraw the troops. Next day 
he even bettered his promises, ordering the soldiers back to 
their quarters while the mob still stood at their barricades, 
and actually consenting to a distribution of arms among the 


people for the purpose of constituting a National Guard. 
The evening witnessed the abject spectacle of a Prussian King 
standing bare-headed on his balcony, while a procession denied 
before him, escorting the bodies of the fallen rioters. The 
troops were now ordered out of Berlin. With them went the 
King's brother, Prince William, whose strong dislike to 
concession had made him an object of popular dread, and had 
earned him the name of the " Cartridge Prince." Shame and 
disgust were universal in official and military circles, and 
found no more energetic expression than in the mouth of 
young Otto von Bismarck. 

There was worse to come. Abandoned to his new advisers 
and more than half sincere in his desire to go with the wishes 
of his subjects, the unhappy King allowed himself 
ride. Kin8 ' S to i gsue a proclamation declaring that thence- 
forward Prussia was absorbed in Germany, and even 
consented to ride in solemn state through the streets of Berlin 
wearing a sash displaying the red, black, and gold colours of the 
German nationalist movement (March 21, 1848). His unlucky 
ride deprived Prussia of a decisive voice in determining the 
direction of events, while it inspired little desire among those 
who were now free to elaborate their own schemes to seek 
the championship of one whose conduct had been so equivocal. 
For, in the meantime, the Vorparlament had met, without 
waiting for the sanction of the governments, and had sum- 
moned a National Assembly consisting of a single 
National AS- chamber to meet at Frankfort on May 18, a step 
Frankfort. which had received the sanction of the historic 
Diet. Thus far the work of the Nationalist party 
had proved easy, so easy, indeed, that the leaders had tailed 
entirely to realise the supreme need of rapid and decisive 
action. Everything depended upon the question whether 
Germany could place her new institutions in a position of 
unassailable strength before Austria could free her hands of 
embarrassments in Hungary and Italy. It was the end of 
June before a provisional government had been appointed. 
The Archduke John of Austria, who was generally acceptable 
on account of his easy popular manners and his known dislike 
of Metternich's repressive policy, was proclaimed Imperial 
Vicar, with power to nominate a ministry responsible to the 
Assembly, through whom he was to assume control of the 
foreign, commercial, and military policy of the German 


This done, the Assembly, swayed by logic rather than by 
practical considerations, made the fatal choice of deciding in 
the first instance to settle the Fundamental 
Rights of all German subjects. The congenial rij h u t g^ mental 
theme was handled with great eloquence, but not 
without some interruptions, till the middle of October, and in 
the meantime Germany was losing faith in her representatives, 
and had seen their authority treated with indifference on more 
occasions than one. 

Of these the most important was an episode which demon- 
strated the utter futility of the Assembly's claim to control 
the foreign policy and military action of Germany 
at large. The racial and political borders of the 
Scandinavian and German worlds were ill-defined, 
and irreconcilable differences smouldered along the Danish 
frontier, which only awaited the revival of German national 
feeling to burst into flame. Some account of the history of 
the Baltic powers since 1814 becomes therefore necessary, 
and will involve but a short digression from the main 

Sweden, deprived of Finland by Russia, and united 
with Norway which had been torn from Denmark, entered 
upon a new era under Charles XIII and his 
adopted heir, the French Marshal Bernadotte, 
who ascended the throne in 1818 as Charles XIV. 
Every inch a king, this brilliant, gifted, and attractive 
personality succeeded in conciliating the goodwill of all the 
European Powers alike, and, unable though he was to speak 
the Swedish language, his energy, activity, and passion for 
improvement started his adopted country on sure paths of 
material progress. The finances were restored ; agriculture, 
commerce, and industry made rapid strides under the King's 
encouragement ; roads, canals, and harbours were constructed. 
Not the least of Bernadotte's achievements was the main- 
tenance, in spite of much friction, of the union with Norway. 
In 1814 that country, objecting to the transfer of her crown 
to Sweden, had declared herself independent under a 
Danish prince. Bernadotte had easily overwhelmed her 
resistance, but had recognised by the Rilcsakt her separate 
existence under his Crown with a democratic legislature of two 
houses, known as the Storthing. By a combination of firmness 
and astuteness he had averted the intervention of the other 
Powers in the difficult question as to the share sjie was to bear 


of the Danish debt. But Norway was sensitive, Charles XIV 
was by instinct an absolutist, and relations were never cordial. 
Even with the Swedish Diet, constituted on the old-fashioned 
system in four separate Estates, there was strife in the period 
preceding the King's death in 1844, after which, owing partly 
to the personal popularity of his son and successor the kindly 
Oscar I, and partly to the alarm engendered by the events of 
1848, political agitation receded into the background. 

The condition of Denmark in 1814 was even more deplorable 
than that from which Bernadotte rescued Sweden. Debt, 
the loss of Norway, the ruin of the capital owing 
to the English bombardment, were among the 
darkest features of a gloomy situation. Happily 
Frederick VI, an honest, kind-hearted soldier, who had borne 
more than his share of his country's misfortunes, was honoured 
with the same affection which had clung to Frederick William 
III in Prussia (p. 195). Never repressive in his policy, he had, 
before his death in 1839, established four provincial Diets for 
Jutland, Schleswig, Holstein, and the islands. His nephew 
and successor, Christian VIII, who lived to belie the hopes of 
constitutional reform which his early career had excited, was 
at least a strong and capable ruler, and the reorganisation of 
the finances, the recovery of prosperity and much humane 
legislation, are to be set down to his credit. But his reign was 
clouded with the menace of the Schleswig-Holstein question. 
It was not, however, his fault that Denmark did not succeed 
in establishing a modus vivendi with these dependencies, as 
Sweden had done with Norway. The problems they presented 
were, in fact, all but insoluble. 

The Schleswig-Holstein question was three -fold. It was 
at once a national, a legal, and a dynastic question. The 
national issue was as follows : 

The Duchy of Holstein was German in population, and, 

though a possession of the Danish Crown, was a member of the 

Germanic Confederation, just as Hanover had 

Hoistein leS iies 8 - * on contmue( i to be in spite of the fact that its 
tion. Electors were kings of England. The German 

population resented Danish rule, and dreaded 
political incorporation. These considerations suggest the 
possibility of reaching a solution on nationalist lines by de- 
taching Holstein from the Danish Crown. But the national issue 
was not in reality quite so simple. There was a large Germanic 
element in the population of Schleswig, and some districts were 


almost exclusively German. And this difficulty was accen- 
tuated by the legal aspect of the case. Schleswig had never 
been, any more than Holstein, an integral part of the Danish 
Kingdom. It was equally a duchy belonging to the Danish 
Bang in his capacity of Duke. And, what was more important, 
the Treaty of Ribe in the year 1460 had recognised that the 
two Duchies were inseparable, a principle which had hitherto 
passed unquestioned. It is clear that, German national claims 
once admitted in Holstein, a tolerable case could be urged for 
their extension to Schleswig. It is equally clear that any such 
extension must bring the national sympathies of the Danish 
people for their compatriots into the field. The strongest 
party in Denmark, the Eider-Dane group, would therefore 
have been content with something less than the whole territory 
in dispute, and would have accepted a partition following the 
line of the Eider, which divided Schleswig from Holstein. 

The dynastic question served to bring these contending 
claims to an immediate conflict by presenting to the Germans 
the prospect of an easy and automatic realisation 
of their most extreme demands, while it imposed 
upon the Danish Crown and people the necessity 
of taking immediate precautions to guard against impending 
dismemberment. Frederick, son and heir of Christian VIII, 
was childless, and by the terms of the Lex Regia of 1665, 
permitting the succession of females, the Crown of Denmark 
would naturally pass to the descendants of the reigning King's 
sister, Charlotte. But in the duchies the ancient Salic Law, 
excluding females from the succession, still held good. 
Separation was therefore in sight unless decisive steps were 

Accordingly, in 1846, Christian VIII issued an open letter 
declaring that the law of succession which held good for 
Denmark was applicable to the duchies of 
Schleswig and of Lauenberg, but that in the case Policy of chris- 

e TT i A. 11 - i T tion VIII. and 

of Holstein the legal position was not clear. In Frederick vn. 
1848 his successor, Frederick VII, went further. 
Obliged by popular pressure to grant a Constitution, he was 
unable to do so without either affirming or denying the Danish 
view of the relation between the kingdom and the duchies. 
The Constitution was accordingly drafted for the whole territory 
under the Danish Crown, and was therefore a direct challenge 
to German feeling. Holstein revolted and established a 
provisional government. 


Frederick William IV was invited to interfere. He had 

just made his astonishing submission, and was anxious to 

prove his sincerity as well as to recover his lost 

Prussian inter- credit. But he did not wait for the authorisation 

vention in the , ., _ T . , . ,, 

Duchies. of the National Assembly. His troops, under 

Wrangel, entered Holstein and invaded Schleswig, 
whereupon the Assembly solemnly issued their belated com- 
mission to the King of Prussia to act on the national behalf. 
But the dreams alike of the Assembly and of the King were 
rudely dispelled. The Powers interposed to protect Denmark, 
and Frederick William had no choice but to recall his army. 
In vain the legislators at Frankfort insisted that Prussia was 
but their instrument, and that they alone could authorise 
withdrawal. The Danes refused to recognise their existence, 
and Frederick William could not afford to defy the Powers. 
Prussia, acting as an independent belligerent, concluded the 
truce of Malmoe, by which Schleswig was to be evacuated, and 
a temporary joint commission of Prussians and Danes was to 
administer the affairs of Holstein (August, 1848). 

The impotence of the Assembly was now conclusively proved, 

but it was to receive a still more striking illustration. The 

members adopted the undignified course of rejecting 

impotence of the Malmoe truce, only to rescind the resolution 

the National , . mi i 111 

Assembly. some days later. The wiser heads had at last 
realised that an unprotected body of legislators did 
but imperil their own work by defying the only armed power 
of any consequence which had favoured their plans. Germany 
did not fail to mark the humiliation. Nor were humiliations 
at an end. Democratic Frankfort broke out into riot on the 
news of the second vote, and two members of the moderate 
party were barbarously murdered before Prussian troops had 
restored order. 

With impaired credit the Assembly approached in October 
the task of drafting a Constitution, which involved a pre- 
liminary question of great difficulty. It was 
Constitution 1 necessary to decide whether the German territories 
cJahns UStrian ^ Austria were to be included within the new 
State or not. German national feeling was 
strongly in favour of inclusion, but Austria, under the guidance 
of Schwarzenberg, was now in a position to answer the question 
for herself. The Hapsburg territories were to be constituted 
as a centralised kingdom, and no distinction implying special 
and different obligations in one group of provinces was likely 


to be recognised. Schwarzenberg demanded the inclusion of 
the entire Austrian monarchy with all her non-German 
dependencies. This proposal was distasteful alike on senti- 
mental grounds, and because it would have given Austria a 
preponderance in the national counsels over all the other 
States put together. 

Regretfully the majority at Frankfort fell back upon 
the alternative of a narrower Germany from which Austria 
should be excluded. And since it was daily more evident 
that Austria, unable to enter on. her own terms, would resent 
the exclusion of her influence from a field in which it had been 
all-powerful, the scales at length dropped from the eyes of 
the Assembly, and they saw how entirely the issue of their 
labours must depend on the friendly co-operation of Prussia. 
The Constitution was hastily completed, and on March 28 it 
was resolved to offer the position of German Emperor to 
Frederick William IV. 

The offer found Frederick William no longer in the melting 
mood. Weary of democratic dictation and of mob violence, 
he had in the previous October plucked up courage 
to occupy the capital with troops, a measure 
which was effected without resistance. The 
legislature having refused to obey an order to withdraw to 
Brandenburg, the new ministry, under Count Brandenburg, 
received authority to dissolve it. The blow was followed up 
by the issue of a fresh Constitution, a modification of the old 
in a sense favourable to the authority of the Crown. 

The King of Prussia had thus recovered his liberty of action. 
He now met the deputation from Frankfort with an answer 
which was tantamount to a refusal of the Imperial 
dignity (April 3), and from this moment the Frederick wji- 

- x - r & . . J -i A 1 1 1 rrn l lan * refuSCS the 

National Assembly began to melt away. The imperial Crown. 
Austrian deputies withdrew in April, those of 
Prussia in May, and the bulk of the abler and wiser members 
speedily followed their example. The last struggles of the 
minority against a foregone conclusion claim no notice. 

Thus ended a great Constitutional experiment, one highly 
honourable to those who shared in it. The end proposed 
was nothing less than the realisation of the destiny 

which patriotism and enlightenment claimed for Collapse of the 
~ .-. , , . . , , national move- 

Germany ; the men who took part in the work ment. 

were for the most part distinguished by high- 
mindedness and ability ; the Constitution was an achievement 


of which more experienced statesmen need not have been 
ashamed. But the times were unpropitious, and the leaders 
singularly incapable of reading the signs of the times. 
Bismarck, in his brutal way, passed a true verdict upon their 
work when he said, in later years, " It cannot be done with 
speeches and celebrations and songs, it can only be done 
with blood and iron." Indeed, the common criticism on 
Frederick William's action as a " great refusal " which post- 
poned for twenty years the destiny of Germany fails to take 
account of important facts. .Doubtless the King was unduly 
influenced by his respect for Austria and by his distaste for 
a crown "picked up out of the mud" of revolution. But 
Austria would have fought rather than accept the new Empire, 
and behind Austria stood the Czar, while the lesser kingdoms 
of Germany would have lent no support to a system which 
was essentially opposed to " particularist " interests. 

Nevertheless, Frederick William had not entirely cast off 
his nationalist sympathies, nor was the Imperial Crown 
destitute of attraction for him. He now set 
T^he Prussian himself to secure an effective federal Constitution 
union? for Germany, under Prussian leadership and on 

popular lines, by agreement with the lesser Kings. 
His plan was that this federal union should be connected by 
the closest ties with Austria, and that the two Powers should 
establish a common central machinery for dealing with matters 
of common interest. The moment was favourable to an 
extension of Prussian influence. Fierce revolts, born of the 
national disappointment, had spread from Baden far and wide 
over Germany. Many of the threatened governments had 
been saved by Prussian military assistance, and their appre- 
hensions drew them closer to Prussia. 

By May, 1849, matters had so far advanced that a " League 
of Three Kings " had been formed between Prussia, Saxony, 
and Hanover, that the general outline of a 
Constitution had been approved, and that the 
smaller states had given in their adhesion. It 
was hoped that the other kingdoms would gradually come in 
as they had done in the case of the Zollverein. Though the 
difficulties of Austria made the opportunity favourable, it 
was no part of Frederick William's plan to resort to compulsion. 
Bavaria and Wurtemberg held ominously aloof, and by 
August Austrian successes in Hungary put Schwarzenberg in 
a position to support them. Hanover and Saxony, more 


eager from the first for the guarantee of Prussian bayonets than 
for federal reform, immediately abandoned the League on the 
mere proposal to proceed to t/he election of its 
representative body. With indecent haste they 
entered a " League of Four Kings " with Bavaria League. 
and Wurtemberg, and accepted a counter- 
scheme which Schwarzenberg had baited with territorial 
advantages. The two leagues were now arrayed against one 
another. Prussia convened her Parliament at Erfurt, which 
accepted in their entirety the Prussian Constitutional pro- 
posals (March, 1850). 

Schwarzenberg craftily declined to follow his opponent on the 
path of untried paper programmes. Dropping the ' ' Four Kings' 
League," he summoned representatives from the 
governments to Frankfort, and immediately took 
steps for reviving the old Diet on the basis of the 
treaties of 1815. It was an admirable rally ing - 
point for all who were weary of change and experiment. 
Meanwhile, Frederick William's difficulties were increasing. 
Diplomacy had failed to provide a solution of the Schleswig- 
Holstein tangle, satisfactory both to Denmark and the duchies, 
and in April, 1849, Prussia had again taken up arms on behalf 
of the latter. She found herself opposed by all the Powers, and 
in July another truce was concluded. Finally, in July, 1850, 
Prussia, yielding to Russian pressure, withdrew her troops, 
leaving Denmark to settle the question at her own discretion. 
The war and the subsequent negotiations left Prussia humiliated 
and suspected by the Powers at the moment when the inevit- 
able issue between herself and Austria was brought to a crisis 
by events in Hesse-Cassel. 

The Elector had long chafed under Constitutional restric- 
tions which had put limits upon his personal extravagance, 
and saw in the revival of the old Diet an encourage- 
ment both to recover his former independence of 
restraint, and at the same time to free himself 
from his obligations to Prussia. In this latter design he had 
been resisted by his advisers, and he accordingly proceeded 
to call to his councils a minister named Hassenpflug, who was 
a professed reactionary, upon which the Estates declined to vote 
the taxes, only to be dissolved for their pains. The result was 
a deadlock which sent the Elector posting to the Diet in quest of 
assistance against his subjects. Schwarzenberg was quick to 
turn the occasion to advantage. The incident gave him at once 


an opportunity of bidding for the support of the princes by a 
fine display of solicitude for their rights, and of inflicting a 
severe blow upon Prussia by -withdrawing a member of her 
league, whose position connecting the two principal masses of 
Prussian territory made her adhesion of special value. 
Prussian protests were disregarded, Bavarian troops were 
commissioned to restore the Elector's authority in the name 
of the Diet, and a league was formed to sustain their action. 
Urged by Radowitz, the King of Prussia consented to send 
troops to protect the Constitutional rights of Hesse. The 
situation was now exceedingly grave, and actual fighting took 
place between opposing outposts at Bronzell. Having thus 
succeeded in producing a crisis, Schwarzenberg presented 
the Prussian Court with an ultimatum demanding the dis- 
solution of the separate league, the recognition of the Diet 
and the evacuation of Hesse. If Radowitz had had his way 
the issue would have been decided by the sword. The Prussian 
army was actually mobilised. But Frederick William hesitated. 
The attitude of the Czar was an all-important factor in the 
choice he was called upon to make, and already in October 
Count Brandenburg had been sent to sound Nicholas at Warsaw. 
The result was most discouraging. After a vain attempt to 
reach an agreement on the basis of abandoning the league, the 
King despatched Manteuffel to Olmiitz to arrange 
ma tters in a personal interview with Schwarzen- 
berg. By the " Punctuation of Olmiitz," Prussia 
gave way on all the points at issue (November 29, 1850). Her 
humiliation was complete, but she was yet able to snatch from 
her enemy the fruits of his victory. 

At the Conference of Dresden, which met to settle the future 
Constitution of the Confederation, Austria counted upon 
securing her permanent supremacy by insisting 
Dresden! 06 ai upon her original demand for the inclusion of the 
whole Hapsburg monarchy. All the fears of 
" particularism " were roused by the proposal, and Manteuffel 
was not slow to mark his opportunity. He boldly took his 
stand for the original Constitution of 1815, and compelled 
Schwarzenberg to recede. The national movement both in its 
democratic and monarchical phases was now at an end. But it 
had succeeded in defining the issues. The earlier phase had 
convinced far-sighted men that force alone could consummate 
the union, the later that in Austria Germany was to recognise 
the foe. 



WHEN at length, in the early fifties, all the toil and endeavour 
of the years of revolution had spent their force, there remained 
standing but one new political structure to testify 
to the activity of the epoch, and that the least 
representative of the hopes which it had called 
forth. Twice over men had built upon the ruin- 
strewn site of the July monarchy, and, by 1852, the garish 
fabric of the Second Empire had replaced the insecure con- 
structions of the Second Republic. 

It will be remembered that there had been established in 
France by October, 1848, a Constitution of a unique kind. 
By this Constitution there were created side by 
side two practically co-ordinate authorities, a Constitution of 
single Chamber based upon universal suffrage neputSc^ 
with a responsible ministry ; and a President, him- 
self elected by universal suffrage and not directly responsible 
to the Chamber, in whose hands rested the appointment of 
the ministry and the control of the entire executive. A very 
slight acquaintance with political questions is sufficient to 
suggest that in these arrangements there existed every 
prospect of a deadlock. Neither power possessed, in fact, the 
authority to say the last word. Constitutionally, the President 
had no means of over-riding a Chamber which he had no power 
to dissolve, while the Chamber could at best harass a President, 
whom it had no power to depose, by rendering the position of 
his ministers impossible. Strife was therefore certain, and in 
the event of strife, it is to be remarked that the control of the 
army and of the highly centralised administrative system, 
through the Ministers of War and of the Interior respectively, 
gave an enormous advantage to the President. Well might a 
contemporary critic urge that a President who chose to resort 
to extra-legal means to perpetuate his power " would not need 


to have behind him the victories of Lodi, Moiitenotte, and the 
Pyramids." But that was just the kind of prestige which the 
man who was destined to fulfil the speaker's fears brought with 
him to his task. The " Napoleonic Legend " which had 
co-operated with other destructive forces to sap the throne of 
Louis Philippe (p. 162) was to give more positive evidence of 
its vitality by contributing to rebuild a throne for Louis 

Louis Napoleon Bonaparte was the son of Louis Bonaparte, 

King of Holland. Born in 1808, he became, on the death of 

the Duke of Reichstadt, in 1831, the heir to the 

Louis Napoleon. ' ' 

claims of his uncle s dynasty. There was little 
in the outward man to proclaim the future Emperor. His 
insignificant figure, too short in the legs and somewhat stooping 
at the shoulders, his heavy, almost flaccid features, his dull 
eyes and his expressionless and all but wooden cast of counten- 
ance, together with the natural taciturnity of his disposition, 
passed in early life for evidence of negligible stupidity, as they 
became to the public opinion of a later period the appropriate 
disguises of a consummate dissembler. The public was as 
little right in its later as in its earlier estimate. Nevertheless, 
there were behind the ungainly exterior a passionate craving 
for distinction, which it would be shallow to dismiss as mere 
vanity, and an imaginative faculty overleaping intermediate 
difficulties to embrace with a faith that was almost fatalistic 
the vision of an inherited destiny. Debarred from the field of 
action by the misfortunes of his family, his abilities were bent 
towards study or spent themselves in dreams. Yet of studies 
and dreams alike politics were the subject-matter and his 
destiny the guiding-star, and both were sustained by a singular 

His first excursion into practical life made little stir, while 
it unquestionably influenced the subsequent bent of his mind. 

Living at Rome, Louis Napoleon became a 
foiiures! y Carbonaro, and was expelled from Italy for his 

share in the abortive Romagnuol rising of 1831. 
From these early associations he carried with him through life 
the ineradicable taint of the conspirator's methods, and was 
often secret and evasive when candour would have better 
served his purposes. His next two adventures attracted 
attention enough, but bade fair to extinguish his pretensions for 
ever under a flood of ridicule. The history and the ideas of 
the great Emperor were his study night and day, and in 1836, 


at Strasburg, he attempted to re-enact the return from Elba. 
Dressed for the part he was to play in the familiar uniform of 
the petit caporal, and followed by a party of confederates in 
the guise of a staff, he attempted to win over the garrison to 
his cause. The result was an utter fiasco, and the would-be 
Emperor found himself packed off to America with a gift of 
money, through the forbearance of Louis Philippe. Nothing 
daunted, he repeated the experiment at Boulogne, in 1840, 
with similar results, and this time was placed in easy con- 
finement in the Castle of Ham. Both episodes illustrate 
a certain theatrical bent in his nature, as well as the incur- 
able tendency of his imagination to stop short, exhausted 
as it were with the evolution of an idea. To others or to 
fortune he left the task of accommodating it to a world of 
prosaic facts. 

For seven years he wrote and dreamed at Ham, producing, 
among other writings, a book on " Napoleonic Ideas," and after 
his escape in the disguise of a workman, he re- 
mained pre-occupied with the same thoughts for 
another year in London. No worse training could 
have been devised for one who was to be a ruler of men. It is 
true that he came to know France, its parties, prejudices, and 
classes with tolerable accuracy. But he fell, in those years, 
completely under the spell of the legendary abstractions of 
St. Helena, till he failed to see their fatal inconsistencies. 
And, since each political suggestion that he threw out was with 
him a means to an end, not an end in itself, he acquired the 
fatal habit of suspending judgment between contradictory 
policies, each of which might serve his turn. Moreover, there 
came to him, as to most ambitious exiles, a weakening of the 
moral scruples, which was to deprive him in later years of a 
guiding principle in the choice of alternatives, and of the con- 
fidence of his fellow-men. Yet much of the hatred and 
suspicion which he aroused was undeserved. His nature 
was kindly ; cruelty and even sternness were alien to him. 
According to his lights he was a patriotic ruler, and he studied 
with real zeal the welfare of his subjects. His support of 
liberal and national ideals was no mere lip-service. But he 
had chosen for himself the throne of France, where daily 
homage to hard unreasoning facts was never more imperative 
than in his day, and in the crisis of his fate he chose to follow 

The decree of exile against the House of Bonaparte was 


withdrawn by the representatives of the nation on June 2, 

1848. In the following September Louis Napoleon 
France. 10 was returned to the Chamber by five departments. 

In November, under the new Constitution, he was 
a candidate for the Presidency. His electoral manifesto was 
adroitly constructed to appeal to the interests of all classes. 
The Catholic voters read of his determination to protect and 
foster the work of the Church, the discontented artisans of 
schemes for social improvement, the army of a renewed care 
for the national dignity and for the interests of time-expired 
soldiers, the thrifty peasantry of peace and the maintenance 
of order. 

But all these considerations will not account for the over- 
whelming majority of two millions by which he was declared 

elected on December 10, at the head of the poll, 
Louis Napoleon defeating Lamartine, the resourceful pilot of the 
dent. Second Republic, Cavaignac, the tamer of Paris, 

and Ledru-Rollin, the champion of the demo- 
cratic working classes. The Napoleonic Legend had done its 
work. The name " Napoleon," as its bearer truly said, was 
in itself a programme, and one far more effective than he 
supposed, for it was the programme of a golden age, of which 
the memories were still alive, not only in history and in the 
national monuments, but in the stories of every peasant's 
fireside and the pictures on every cottage wall. 

Hardly had the Prince President been installed than the 
inevitable strife began. It was the duty of the Chamber, after 

producing the Constitution, to dissolve itself. It 
Dissolution of declined to do so. Meanwhile the socialists, 
Chamber! 11 crushed by arms in June and beaten at the polls 

in December, were preparing for renewed violence. 
The President asked for powers to close the political clubs, but 
the Chamber, seeing an opportunity of retaliating for his 
attitude on the question of dissolution, declined to confer 
them, and scouted the idea of danger. Their prescience was 
at fault. There were commotions in the streets of Paris at the 
end of January, put down by General Changarnier, and the 
Chamber, having lost public confidence, passed the proposed 
measures, and fixed their own dissolution for the following 

The utmost surprise was expressed at the result of the May 
elections. Of 500 members 200 were Legitimists, and 180 
belonged to the social democratic parties. Yet no result was 


more probable from the operation of universal suffrage among 
the peasants on the one hand and among the artisans of the 
industrial towns on the other. The representa- 
tives of the latter, with some countenance from Dissensions inj 
the moderate republicans, now raised a vigorous chamber. 
outcry against the action of the government in 
sending General Oudinot to Rome to suppress a sister-Republic 
(p. 238). The struggle was transferred to the streets by an 
attempt on the part of Ledru-Rollin to constitute from his own 
supporters a National Convention distinct from the Chamber. 
The troops were called out, and both in Paris and the provinces, 
where similar rioting had broken out, order was restored. 
The Chamber was now obviously divided, and likely to remain 
so while the existing electoral system remained in force. The 
majority got the credit for the repressive measures which they 
had vigorously advocated, while the President, showing him- 
self everywhere at exhibitions, reviews, and the opening of 
railway lines, was winning golden opinions as the representa- 
tive of peace and material progress. 

These things were expected of the Head of the State, but, 
in matters of administration and policy, he was constitutionally 
bound to act through his ministers. Emboldened 
by the dissensions in the Chamber, the Prince The President 
President began to assume an independent and Ministry. 
personal initiative. Irritated by the reactionary 
excesses of the restored Papacy, and especially anxious, owing 
to the bad impression which they created in France, to dis- 
sociate himself from so unfortunate a result of the occupation 
of Rome, he wrote a vigorous set of instructions to his aide-de- 
camp, Colonel Edgar Ney, directing him to remonstrate with the 
Pope. This letter was published in the official Press. The 
Legitimist majority in the Chamber were highly incensed at 
the attempt to put pressure on the Holy See, and resolutions 
were passed expressing satisfaction with the Papal explana- 
tions. In these resolutions the ministers acquiesced, nor in 
face of the attitude of the Chamber did they venture to insist 
on the President's demand for concrete evidence of a disposition 
to reform on the part of the Pope. No better occasion was 
likely to present itself for teaching a proper subserviency in 
the Cabinet to the Presidential will. The ministers were 
required to give in their resignations on the ground that 
France needed stronger men, and looked to the Prince President 
to provide them (October, 1849). From this moment President 


and Chamber stood in undisguised opposition, and men began 
to range themselves under one standard or the other. 

With singular lack of foresight the Chamber presented their 
enemy with an initial advantage. The elections, which took 

place in March and April, to fill the seats vacated 
Sing law." kv the extremists who had taken part in Ledru- 

Rollin's secession, resulted in the return of pro- 
nounced radicals. A regular panic seized on the majority, 
and of many wild suggestions one of those that passed into 
law was a proposal intended to deprive all anarchists, criminals, 
and vagabonds of a vote. A qualification of three years' 
previous residence in the voter's district was hastily imposed. 
It was found in practice to disfranchise nearly three millions of 
Frenchmen (May, 1850). The measure at once alienated the 
nation, split up the majority, and provided the President with 
a casus belli. The Second Republic was evidently in the throes 
of dissolution, and every interest began to organise its plans 
for the inevitable catastrophe. 

It had been expected that Louis Napoleon would take up 
the challenge at once. He had been touring the provinces 
with confident and optimistic speeches, and twice he had been 
greeted at reviews with cries of Vive I'Empereur, which had 
gone unrebuked. But he was not ready, and no reference was 
made at the re-assembling of the Chamber in November to the 

recent legislation. It was, however, an ominous 

circumstance that, in January, 1851, General 

Changarnier was removed from the command of 
the National Guard. A desperate effort was made to censure 
the President, which issued, owing to internal divisions, in a 
feeble vote of want of confidence in the ministry. There could 
now be little doubt which side would win, for the nation could 
scarcely venture to commit authority to the divided and dis- 
credited elements of opposition. 

By the middle of 1851 it became clear that a revision of the 
Constitution would be imperative. By the laws of October, 

1848, the dissolution of the Chamber was due at the 
evisio5. f en d of the ensuing April, and the resignation of 

the President half-way through May. Everything 
suggested that the period of transition would be one of extreme 
danger. Unfortunately, the law made revision almost impossible 
within the time available. The Chamber was required to discuss 
any proposed revision at three separate meetings held at in- 
tervals of one month, and a majority of three-quarters was 


necessary for its approval. The decision could only be finally 
confirmed by a specially elected convention of 900 members, 
who were to sit for three months. Lack of time and of unani- 
mity seemed to be conspiring with Louis Napoleon's inclina- 
tions towards a revision which would be extra-legal. Ominous 
petitions were already coming in for an extension of the Presi- 
dent's period of office. His own utterances grew bolder. At 
Dijon he declared that the Chamber had never helped 
him save to repress disorder, and had remained cold to all his 
efforts for the good of the people. He openly invited the 
country to express its will. " France," he said, " shall not 
perish in my hands." By way of answer the Chamber fatuously 
refused so much as to consider revision. 

Louis Napoleon had already gathered round him a group 
of men of lax principles and keen ambitions, adventurers, like 
Persigny his partner in the Strasburg fiasco ; 
soldiers of fortune like St. Arnaud, who had been ^ r e ty President ' s 
selected as a fit instrument from the army in 
Algeria ; men of broken fortunes, like Fleury the spendthrift 
officer, and Maupas the discredited prefect of Upper Garonne, 
together with his own half-brother De Morny, a company 
promoter and speculator on the Paris Bourse. Room was 
now to be made for these men in the ministry. In October, 
the President propounded to his constitutional advisers the 
necessity of repealing the law of disfranchisement. They 
refused, as he expected, and resigned. St. Arnaud became 
Minister of War, and Maupas Prefect of Police. The new 
ministry put the project of repeal before the legislature only to 
be rejected. The Chamber had dug its own grave, for the Presi- > , 
dent could now declare war in the name of popular rights. 

It is characteristic of Louis Napoleon that he should have 
hesitated, when all his plans had come to ripeness, to take the 
final step which could no longer be peacefully 
or legally accomplished. But he had now 
associates of coarser fibre than himself to urge 
him on, and in the night of December 1, 1851, the conspirators 
put their long-prepared plans into execution. Troops under 
Magnan were sent by St. Arnaud's orders to occupy both the 
meeting place of the Chamber at the Palais Bourbon and 
selected points of vantage throughout the capital. Morny, 
there and then appointed Minister of the Interior, caused the 
government printing office to be surrounded, and forced the 
Compositors to set up in type the proclamations which were to 


be posted on the walls before morning, securing secrecy till 
then by allotting to each separate workman a fragment unin- 
telligible without the context. Maupas meanwhile had executed 
to perfection the most difficult task of all. Two hours after 
midnight, he had summoned to his office police commissioners 
whom he could trust, and by their agency all the leading men 
of the Chamber and the general officers opposed to the 
President were arrested in their beds shortly before dawn. 

The morning of December 2 found Paris standing dazed be- 
fore the placards which announced the restoration of universal 

suffrage, the grant of a new Constitution, and the 
?IrS! shed in confidence of the President in the loyalty of the 

army. Only gradually did resistance begin to show 
itself. The conspirators were too quick for the few members of 
the Chamber who gathered together surreptitiously for the 
purpose of deposing Louis Napoleon, too quick for the High 
Court of Justice which met to sign a warrant for his arrest. Both 
attempts were defeated by the police. The task of dealing with 
the republicans and democrats of the working quarters was not 
so simple. On December 3 barricades were raised, and every 
symptom of approaching trouble was in evidence. The self- 
constituted authorities acted with ruthless thoroughness. 
The troops were withdrawn, rested and fed, and the streets 
abandoned to the insurgents. On the next day a general 
advance began. There was desperate fighting, in which the 
soldiers were everywhere victorious, and little mercy was 
shown to the vanquished. But perhaps the most horrible 
episode of the whole day was a deadly fusillade poured into 
a crowd of unresisting bystanders in a moment of panic by a 
body of troops in the Boulevard Montmartre. It was a gloomy 
and ill-omened beginning, and only subsequent events in the 
provinces cloaked the true nature of Louis Napoleon's enter- 
prise with the fair appearance of a crusade for the preservation 
of order. Wherever the socialist teaching had taken root 
savage outbreaks took place, which scared France out of any 
sympathy for the victims of Louis Napoleon's ambition, and 
seemed to demonstrate the necessity of all that had been 
done in his name. A searching proscription followed the 
victory. It is estimated that over 20,000 persons were 
removed from France by exile, by flight, and by deportation to 
Guiana, Cayenne, or Algeria. 

Such was the Coup d'Etat. It was an immoral, sordid, and 
bloody business. But the features which must remain most 


repulsive to men of honour are the deliberate plotting by 
the chief actor against the system he was charged to defend, 
and the methods of midnight conspiracy to 
which he resorted. Humanity, indeed, sickens 
at the terrible list of lives sacrificed or marred 
for what was primarily a difference of political 
opinion, but such things had happened before and were to 
happen again in France, because Frenchmen had not learned 
the virtue of moderation. Louis Napoleon was not a monster, 
and the events of December 4 had formed no part of his 
nebulous schemes. They had rather been the unforeseen though 
inevitable consequence. The same considerations apply, though 
in a less degree, to the machinations of which Morny and 
Maupas were the instruments. The President was not a finished 
Macchiavellian. A student rather than a statesman, he 
embarked upon cloudy designs of which he did not clearly 
apprehend the conditions, and he had not the moral sense to 
stop short where further progress involved divergence from 
the paths of honour. At least, we shall not waste lamentations 
with contemporaries over the " liberty " which he " murdered." 
The Second Republic contained little promise within itself of 
domestic prosperity and repose. France owed nearly twenty 
years of both to Louis Napoleon, and he bestowed them 
deliberately, and not by accident. 

It was because France had an instinctive confidence in 
these intentions, quite as much as because the voting was 
influenced by official pressure, that the nation 
gave him bv Plebiscite on December 20 full powers The Plebiscites 

,.*! , ,1 f ,1 and the Second 

to reconstitute the government of the country, Empire. 
and that by a majority of nearly seven millions. It 
was because Frenchmen saw the work well begun that on 
November 21, 1852, they went to the polls a second time to give 
a still more decided verdict for the revival of the Empire. 
The consequences were as momentous for Europe as for France. 
A dreamer and a conspirator had ascended the French throne 
with the title of Napoleon III, and believed himself the heir 
and the destined exponent of what he understood to have been 
his uncle's policy. 




Two only of the greater Powers had remained unaffected by 
the storms of 1848, England, through a process of peaceful 
internal development, Russia by dint of standing still. And 
few would have ventured to predict that Russia was on the 
threshold of sweeping domestic changes, and England on the 
verge of a foreign war. 

To most Englishmen the Great Exhibition of 1851 seemed 
to inaugurate an era of peaceful industry and commerce. 
New processes of manufacture and new facilities 
for communication promised the advent of an age igf 1 land in 
in which the suspicious diplomatic relations of the 
European Powers would give place to an active com- 
mercial co-operation in the exchange of commodities. The 
hope was freely expressed that war was a thing of the 

A new era had indeed begun, and an era in which material 
forces were to exercise an influence as yet undreamt of. The 
railway, the telegraph, and the press were to bind The new era 
the peoples more closely together as national 
units. They were to furnish the governments with a power 
of organisation and control hitherto beyond their reach, 
and with a fullness of knowledge contributing to decision in 
action. They were to bring rival Powers into closer touch 
with one another, thus multiplying occasions of friction. 
They were to facilitate the rapid concentration of enormous 
bodies of men against the frontiers of a hostile state. Study 


was everywhere turning material forces to the service of the 
human race, and swiftly the nations learnt the lesson that the 
issues of armed strife depended not upon blind chance, but upon 
man's patient self -adaptation to conditions of politics and geo- 
graphy, and upon his power of drilling the forces of nature to 
obedient service in the operation of his engines of war. It was to 
be an age of statesmen and generals, an age of diplomacy and 
scientific warfare. But the achievements of statesmen and of 
armies alike were to be the expression of national impulses felt 
through the new channels of communication existing between 
government and governed. 

The illusions of the British public were not shared by 

Continental potentates, and least of all by the Czar of Russia. 

Nicholas had good reason to know how unsettled 

Apprehensions was the condition of the Balkan peninsula, for 

of the Czar , , _, . . , . , . ' , 

Nicholas. there were two Russian interests at stake in that 

corner of Europe which imposed an unremitting 
vigilance on the government at St. Petersburg. These were 
the preservation of an open road to the south, and the pro- 
tection of the Orthodox subjects of the Porte. Since the Treaty 
of the Straits, Turkey, under Abdul Me] id, had been busy 
with the elaboration of paper reforms, greatly assisted by 
the English Ambassador, Lord Stratford de Redcliffe. One 
result of the consequent growth of British influence had been 
the successful defiance by the Sultan of the Russian demand 
for the extradition of the Hungarian refugees (p. 225). The 
new Muscovite policy of substituting diplomatic control for 
conquest was manifestly imperilled. Nevertheless, it was not 
abandoned. The dependent Christian States still provided 
occasions for interference and mediation which the Sultan 
was not strong enough to repudiate. 

But the successful assertion of Greek independence had 

introduced a new factor. There were active-minded men 

among Slavs and Vlachs who were burning to 

Weakening of imitate the Greek example, and there was a 

Russian mini- .. ...,... *- ., ji 

ence. rising disinclination among them to remain the 

passive clients of Russia. It was by Russian sup- 
port indeed that Danilo, prince-bishop of Montenegro, succeeded 
in throwing off the restrictions of his semi-ecclesiastical status 
and transforming his little realm into a lay principality 
hereditary in his own family (1852). But elsewhere the 
nationalist spirit often forced Russia into co-operation with 
Turkey, or obliged her to acquiesce in Turkish predominance, 


In Servia Prince Milosh Obrenovich (p. 65), the ex-pig- 
dealer, had long desired to gather in under his rule all the out- 
lying Servian districts. But his despotic govern- . & 
ment provoked resistance among his own subjects 
and even a rising, to which he so far gave way as to attempt the 
realisation of his objects by a grotesque imitation of Constitu- 
tional government (1835). The plan failed, arbitrary measures 
re-kindled discontent, and Russia combined with Turkey in 
forcing the Prince to accept the advice of an oligarchical senate. 
Further friction was followed by the abdication of Milosh, and 
by the two short reigns of his sons, Milan and Michael. The 
latter, having defied the Senate and attempted reforms, was 
forced to withdraw from the country. The Turks thereupon 
installed the rival claimant, Alexander Karageorgevich, to 
the ill-disguised annoyance of Russia (1842). 

Before evacuating the Principalities of Moldavia and Wal- 
lachia, after the Treaty of Adrianople (p. 90), Russia had secured 
that the Hospodars should in future be natives, and 
that Constitutions should be granted placing con- 
siderable power in the hands of the provincial 
nobles, or Boyars. It was hoped that the disappearance of 
the Phanariot Greek rulers would weaken the influence of Con- 
stantinople, and that the Boyars would be devoted to Russia. 
The expectation was falsified owing to the mistakes of the 
Russian agents, who, admirable as administrators, have seldom 
succeeded in the role of friendly advisers. Events occurring in 
1848 widened the breach. Nicholas had encouraged a tendency 
to union between the principalities ; but the movement went 
beyond his intentions when risings broke out to rescue and 
absorb the Roumanian districts of Transylvania in revolt 
against Austria. A combined Russian and Turkish occupation 
took place, and the new representative institutions were 
superseded by nominated councils. The Czar had thus little 
reason for building upon the friendship of the Principalities. 

The general weakening of Muscovite influence was accen- 
tuated by the situation in Greece. Here the control which Russia 
possessed as a guaranteeing Power was exercised 
conjointly with England and France, and the g^j 011 f 
tendency of events had been rather to eliminate 
than to increase it. The Church had secured a national 
organisation free from the authority of the Patriarch at Con- 
stantinople, who had always leant upon Russian support. King 
Otho was dependent upon Bavarian advisers ; and a narrow 


Germanising policy was combined with a failure to understand 
the needs of the situation. The maintenance of the obsolete 
Turkish system of taxation, and the misapplication of 
the loans required for the development of the country ulti- 
mately led to disturbances at Athens, an attack on the palace 
and the demand for a Constitution (1843). The demand was 
supported by England and France, and its success naturally 
increased the French and English influence. It did not either 
abate the dissatisfaction of the Czar or enhance the reputation 
of Greece. Indeed, the most ardent Philhellenes could no 
longer refuse to recognise the sordid actualities which had so 
strangely belied their glowing dreams. More factious and 
corrupt than their reputed ancestry, the Greek people were 
possessed with an inordinate self-confidence, and with a sub- 
lime assurance that they possessed the admiration of all 
Europe. Their attitude towards Turkey was one of insolent 
menace. Ultimately they drew down upon themselves a 
sharp lesson from Great Britain. 

They had possessed themselves of two islets claimed by 
Britain as part of the Ionian group, then under British pro- 
tection ; their King had seized without compen- 
Son! shC er " sation the property of the historian Finlay to 
extend the royal grounds ; the Athenian mob 
had wrecked the house of Don Pacifico, a Portuguese Jew by 
origin, but a naturalised British subject. Palmerston demanded 
satisfaction, and getting none, blockaded the Greek ports, beat 
down opposition in Parliament by a long -remembered speech, 
the key-note of which was sounded in the words "Civis Romanus 
Sum," and carried his point, after agreeing to abate considerably 
the extravagant claims of Don Pacifico (1850). Thus the state 
of Greece was a source of threefold dissatisfaction to Russia. 
The divided control, the Hellenic national ambition which 
coveted Constantinople itself, the determined action of one 
of the Powers in asserting separate claims without reference 
to the other two, were all evidence of the existence of growing 
influences, in surroundings where but a short while back the 
only external pressure had been exercised by Russia. 

Nicholas had always entertained an admiration for England 

and a firm conviction that an understanding between her and his 

own country would be the surest guarantee of Euro- 

Engijmd. and P ean P e ace, and ne had given practical expression 

to his opinion by abandoning the Treaty of Unkiar 

Skelessi, and by acting in concert with her against Mehemet Ali 


(p. 159). In 1844 he visited England determined to conquer 
British suspicion by the frankest explanation of his views. 
Here, by his simplicity and charm of manner, he quite over- 
came the prejudices of Queen Victoria, who seems to have 
expected to find some of the characteristics of an ogre in the 
conqueror of Poland. Palmerston, whom the Czar detested, 
was not in office at the time, and Nicholas was therefore pre- 
pared to be communicative in his conversations with the 
Foreign Secretary, Lord Aberdeen. 

There is no reason to doubt the entire good faith of his 
utterances. He declared his readiness to assist in maintaining 
the existence of the Turkish Empire as long as 
possible, but insisted on his personal conviction 
that its days were numbered. While denying any 
wish to claim a single inch of its territory, he stated his un- 
alterable determination not to permit annexations of Turkish 
soil by other Powers. He concluded by urging the necessity 
for a clear and definite understanding between England and 
Russia. It is not difficult with our present knowledge, to 
follow his motives. He desired above all to avert combined 
European intervention in the affairs of the Balkan peninsula, 
which might issue in a general partition or in the erection of a 
native State with its capital at Constantinople, powerful enough 
to close the Mediterranean for ever to Russian enterprise. He 
saw in England a Power, disinterested except in matters of 
trade, having none of the special claims of Austria or the ambi- 
tions of France, whose fleet, combined with the Russian armies, 
would command respect for a joint decision. It was one of 
the great opportunities of England's foreign policy, but the 
agreement which might have settled the Eastern Question and 
avoided sixty years of distrust and hostility, was not so much 
as considered. Nicholas was heard with suspicion and 
answered in cold and cautious phrases. 

It was not long before an incident occurred which seemed 
to the Czar to confirm his worst fears. He had very un- 
willingly followed the English lead, and had decided 
to enter into diplomatic relations with the new 
Bonaparte, despite the revolutionary associations 
of his name. He had, however, deprived a very belated recog- 
nition of any grace by refusing to employ towards him the form 
of address usual between sovereigns, addressing him as 
" mon ami" instead of as " mon frere" To such slights 
Napoleon was intensely sensitive, and he was on the watch 


for every opportunity of acquiring prestige, for his throne by 
an active foreign policy, or even by a successful war. Such an 
opportunity already existed in the East. The custody of the 
reputed sepulchre of Our Lord and of other Holy Places in 
Palestine had been granted by treaty in the sixteenth century 
to the Latin or Roman Church. These privileges had been 
invaded by monks of the Greek Orthodox Communion, but had 
been re-affirmed owing to the intervention of France in 1740, 
France herself acquiring a recognised position as guarantor of 
the arrangement. Revolutionary France had not troubled 
herself with such matters, while the Latins themselves had 
suffered the shrines to fall into decay by their neglect, with the 
result that the Greeks had stepped in and had succeeded with 
Russian support in reasserting their claims. Louis Napoleon 
had already reopened the question while still President, with the 
object of winning the Roman Catholic vote. The cause of the 
Latins now acquired a new value in his eyes as furnishing an 
opportunity at once for advertising the might of the Second 
Empire and for annoying the Czar. The Sultan, in despair 
between France and Russia, temporised and made inconsistent 
promises. Each Power treated the Ottoman reply as a con- 
firmation of its own claims, and declined compromise. Nicholas 
was convinced that the moment had come when Russia must 
make a firm stand or turn her back for ever on the Danube. 

He determined to make one more effort to win over England. 
The time was not unfavourable, for, in January, 1853, Lord 

Aberdeen was again in office. In a series of con- 
sifnfmiiton versations with Sir Hamilton Seymour, the British 
Seymour. Ambassador at St. Petersburg, the Czar set forth 

his views, which he desired might be communicated 
to the British Cabinet. " We have to deal with a sick man," 
he said, " and we must be ready for the event of his death." The 
suggestions of 1844 were re-stated in greater detail. Neither 
Russia nor any other Power was to be permitted to make 
acquisitions of territory in Europe. There was to be no attempt 
to resuscitate the Byzantine Empire or to extend the kingdom 
of Greece. The Balkan peninsula might be divided up among 
Christian States under Russian protection. England might take 
Egypt, and Cyprus or Crete. Nothing is more remarkable in 
these suggestions than their striking similarity to the arrange- 
ments which have been evolved after years of misunderstanding 
by the logic of events. But the bribe which Nicholas delibe- 
rately offered to commercial England only served to rouse the 


honourable suspicions of her government. Moreover, the ques- 
tion of Constantinople was an insuperable difficulty. The Czar 
professed, and no doubt with sincerity, that he did not desire 
to possess it ; he admitted, and he could scarcely do otherwise, 
that he might be obliged to occupy it. The admission roused 
every latent prejudice against the autocrat who had destroyed 
the liberties of Poland and Hungary. But the real obstacle 
to any understanding was that the British government did not 
recognise the existence of any crisis at all. They coldly but 
civilly replied that the action proposed was only calculated to 
precipitate just such a catastrophe as the Czar apprehended. 

Nicholas had already prepared an alternative line of action. 
It was now necessary to revert to the principles of Unkiar 
Skelessi (p. 143), and to extract permanent 
guarantees from the weakness of the Turk. 
Military preparations were pushed forward, and 
Prince Menschikoff was despatched to Constantinople. 
With studied insolence, he demanded that the Greeks should 
be left undisturbed in the custody of the Holy Places, and 
that the vague rights of exercising protection over the Orthodox 
subjects of the Sultan, claimed by the Czar in accordance 
with a forced interpretation of the Treaty of Kutchuk-Kainardji 
and subsequent engagements, should be definitely recognised. 
The Sultan firmly but courteously refused, and there is no 
doubt that Lord Stratford de Redciiffe, acting not in his official 
capacity as ambassador, but as the private friend and adviser of 
Abdul Mejid, influenced the decision. The Czar had made a 
mistake. Europe now regarded him as the aggressor, and was 
content to see Napoleon come forward as the champion of 
existing rights ; while England, through the prepossessions of 
her ambassador, was being drawn insensibly into the quarrel. 

The representatives of the Great Powers met at Vienna to 
attempt to compose the difference. They had a difficult task 
to perform. If not by treaty, at least by precedent 
the Czar had undoubtedly enjoyed special rights as nJf e vienna 
against the Ottoman Government for the protection 
of its Christian subjects. That some such external control over 
the Porte was necessary had again and again been proved. The 
problem was so to state the Russian rights as not to place the 
Turkish Government under the tutelage of the Czar, and so to 
affirm the Ottoman sovereignty as to leave room for Russian 
remonstrance. This is what the " Vienna Note " attempted. 
It was accepted by the Czar. The Sultan, however, rejected 


it, and it was known that Lord Stratford, while recommending 
acceptance in his official capacity, took care to point out in 
private that it reduced Turkey to the condition of a vassal 
State. A study of the alterations, which the Porte accordingly 
suggested, will satisfy an unprejudiced mind that they left the 
Christians unprotected by anything better than the Sultan's 
promises. But the Russian reply made it equally clear that 
the Czar's interpretation of the original document was not 
that of its authors. England and France abandoned further 
diplomatic efforts. 

This result, coupled with the presence of the French and 
English fleets in Besika Bay, was highly encouraging to 
Turkey. Russia was summoned to evacuate the 
oTslnope? '' Principalities or to prepare for instant war, and 
hostilities began on the Danube. Apprehensive 
concerning the movements of the combined fleets, the Czar 
determined to secure the command of the Black Sea by a 
sudden stroke. On the last day of November the Russian 
admiral in those waters sought out and destroyed the Turkish 
fleet off Sinope. The news was received with a storm of 
indignation in both the western capitals. Memories of 
Warsaw and Vilagos made Nicholas an object of popular hatred 
as the incarnation of a political principle. A legitimate act of war 
was accepted as a fresh proof of perfidy and brutality. Nor were 
the governments likely to restrain public opinion. Napoleon, 
indeed, had no sort of wish to do so ; and Aberdeen, anxious 
though he was to preserve peace, was the head of a coalition 
cabinet containing Palmerston, whose desire for energetic 
action was shared by the British ambassador at Constantinople. 
Nicholas had made up his mind that England would 
not fight. He had rated too highly the sentimentalities of the 
Great Exhibition and the pacific oratory of the 
"Manchester School" of politicians. He was 
now to be rudely undeceived. The two western 
Powers combined to invite the withdrawal of the Russian 
fleets from the Black Sea ; and when the Czar indignantly 
declined to answer this and subsequent communications, pro- 
ceeded to declare war (March, 1854). Much abuse has been 
lavished on Napoleon for dragging England into a quarrel not her 
own. The responsibility rests mainly with the British public, 
but Palmerston and Lord Stratford must share the blame. 

The primary object of the Allies was to eject the 
Russians from the Principalities, and, with that end in view, 


a joint expedition under Lord Raglan and Marshal St. Arnaud 
landed at Varna to support the operations of 
the Turks. With the assistance of British officers 
Silistria made a gallant defence against Russian 
attacks, and the Turks forced the passage of the Danube at 
Giurgevo. But before the allied armies came into the field 
other circumstances had driven the Russians behind the Pruth. 
Austria was deeply in debt to the Czar Nicholas, but her 
gratitude was not proof against the dictates of self-interest, 
which caused her to view with suspicion any 
increase of Russian influence on the Lower Austna f 
Danube. Count Buol, Schwarzenberg's less able 
successor, now determined to turn the war to account in the 
Austrian interest. His idea was to allow the Allies to do all 
the fighting and to interpose at the right moment, with the 
support of Prussia, to dictate terms. Accordingly, early in 
June, he demanded of the Czar the evacuation of the Princi- 
palities. Nicholas naturally required as a preliminary condition 
a guarantee against further attacks from England and France. 
This guarantee Austria set herself to obtain. But the 
attitude of Prussia, whose statesmen had no reason to love 
the Austrians, was so faltering, that Buol was unable to 
persevere when the Allies answered his overtures with a 
peremptory demand that Austria should herself enter the 
alliance. Meantime his equivocal attitude had secured his 
immediate object, but the success was dearly bought. Russia, 
anxious to avoid drawing Austria into the struggle, did indeed 
evacuate the Principalities. But no advantage resulted for 
Austria. Buol had only effected the alienation both of Russia 
and of her opponents. 

The ostensible objects of the war were now to all intents 
and purposes attained. But the " Four Points " submitted 
by the Allies through the mediation of Austria 
were not calculated to salve the wounded pride pSf n t s ? our 
of Russia. Nicholas refused to resign his rights 
as protector of the Principalities, to abandon his claims as 
patron of the Orthodox Church, to concede the free navigation 
of the Danube, and to submit to a revision of the Treaty of the 
Straits. His enemies, moreover, desired nothing better than to 
continue the war. Napoleon had still his spurs to win, and 
England was resolved to humble the arch-autocrat to the dust. 
It was agreed to render Russia powerless for future mischief 
by the destruction of Sebastopol, her arsenal on the Black Sea. 


Sebastopol stands on the south-western promontory of the 
Crimea. The Allies landed on the western coast, considerably 
to the north of the fortress, and advanced in a 
southerly direction. On September 20 they 
carried at the point of the bayonet the defensive 
position occupied by Prince Menschikofif on a line of hills which 
follows the southern bank of the river Alma. The defences 
of Sebastopol were incomplete, and an immediate attack could 
scarcely have been resisted. But the harbour, an inlet of some 
length, covered the town to the north, and the sinking of 
Russian vessels in its mouth denied to the Allies the co-opera- 
tion of their fleet. The invaders therefore swept round east- 
wards by an extensive flank march, and approached their 
objective from the south. Once in sight of the walls, however, 
they remained inactive, establishing their communications with 
the southern coast and waiting for artillery to undertake an 
unnecessary bombardment. Meanwhile the genius of Colonel 
Todleben was converting an almost open town into a fortress. 
Not till the middle of October did the remarkable siege begin. 
Siege, in truth, it was none, for the northern defences were 
unassailed, and supplies were never interrupted. 
Sevastopol. ^ e dissensions between the allied generals 
weakened every enterprise, and before long the 
Russian forces in the Crimea outnumbered the invaders. 
Prince Menschikoff, with the field army, began to harass the 
besiegers. The English held the right or exposed flank, and 
upon them accordingly the attack fell. On October 25 an 
attempt against their base at Balaklava was repulsed 
after a confused engagement, which will be remembered to all 
time for the useless gallantry of the charge pressed home 
against the Russian guns by the Light Cavalry Brigade. 
Again, on November 5, in a dense fog, the right of the English 
siege lines was assailed at Inkerman by heavy Russian columns. 
Here the defenders just maintained their ground in a desperate 
hand-to-hand encounter, long remembered as " the soldier's 
battle," till the French came up in support. 

Thus, ill as they were led, the quality of the British troops 
made them more than a match for the Russians. They were 
no match for the forces of nature and for adverse 
ma terial circumstances. The campaign was to 
provide a lame rehearsal of modern methods of 
warfare, and to furnish conspicuous examples of the operation 
of all those contingencies which the modern soldier must set 


himself to eliminate. An army trained for the barrack and 
the parade-ground found itself exposed to the unfamiliar 
diseases of a camp and to all the rigours of an unforeseen 
winter campaign. Clothing was insufficient, transport was 
inadequate, and ultimately almost inoperative owing to the 
state of the roads ; ammunition, medicine, and food failed to 
reach the front ; and utter disorganisation infected the whole 
supply service. Public indignation was aroused at home, of 
which Aberdeen and Russell were somewhat unfairly made the 
scape-goats. Palmerston became Premier ; but not till the 
spring of 1855 had the effective working of communications 
been secured. Too well- justified had been the Czar's con- 
fidence in " Generals January and February." 

Meanwhile, the Russian armies had suffered no less than 
the Allies, and not in the Crimea only had winter claimed its 
victims. The proud spirit of Nicholas was broken 
at last. All the weakness of the system which he 
had laboured to build up stood revealed in the glare 
of defeat. The army on which his care had been lavished had 
crumbled at a touch. In spite of his doctors' warnings he 
struggled on with tasks beyond his weakened powers. ; You 
have done your duty," was his reply to all remonstrances, " and 
I must do mine." He was spared the bitterness of submission, 
and on March 2 died, as he had lived, unconquered. His 
enemies were as little generous to him in death as in life. 
There is an unworthy note of exultation in Punch's contem- 
porary cartoon of " General Fevrier turned traitor." 

Thus disappeared one influence antagonistic to peace. A 
change in the attitude of Austria, which forced her into a 
closer understanding with the Allies, tended in the same 
direction. Count Cavour, the Premier of Piedmont, in his re- 
solve to obtain for his country the friendship of the victors and 
a place in the councils of Europe, had prevailed upon the King 
and people to sanction the despatch of a Piedmontese force 
to co-operate with the Allies. Buol, desperately afraid of 
being outbid by Austria's persistent foe, now agreed to join 
the alliance if peace could not be secured. His efforts at 
mediation failed, but he still evaded his obligations, losing 
credit with both sides. 

In the summer of 1855 the end was at last in sight. In 
June a general assault was attempted, but without success. 
The French and Piedmontese beat off a Russian attack at the 
Tchernaya in August ; and in September the Allies, now under 


the command of Pelissier and Codrington, made a -final and 

successful attack. The English carried the Redan, only to lose 

it again after desperate fighting, but the French 

topoi f Sebas " succee ded in occupying and holding the Malakof . 

This was the key of the defences, and the Russians 

now evacuated the city south of the harbour. 

The new Czar, Alexander II, was willing to treat, for 
Sweden was beginning to display designs for the recovery of 
Finland. Napoleon had had enough. Palmer- 
81 ston indeed realised that too little had been done 
to secure protection for Turkey in the future, but shrank from 
Napoleon's declared intention of re-kindling revolt in Poland. 
In February, 1856, a Congress met at Paris. By the terms of 
the treaty there concluded the Black Sea was declared neutral. 
Russia agreed to establish no arsenals and to keep no warships 
in those waters, to resign her protectorate over the Princi- 
palities, to surrender a slice of Bessarabia, to assent to the 
free navigation of the Danube, and to abandon her special 
relations with the Christian peoples of Turkey. Under Lord 
Stratford's influence the Sultan issued a decree promising 
freedom of worship and extensive reforms. The Powers 
thereupon admitted Turkey to a place at the council-board of 
Europe, outdoing even the misplaced confidence of their 
adviser in an Article by which they formally parted with all 
claim to collective or individual interference. Such was the 
Treaty of Paris, perhaps the most short-sighted of all the 
diplomatic achievements of the century. The restrictions im- 
posed upon Russia in the Black Sea were impossible to maintain 
and were defied in 1870 ; Bessarabia was won back in 1878 ; 
needless to say, the Turk made no attempt to keep his 
promises. Such were the meagre results of the struggle. The 
Allies had fought only to avert a solution which time has 
approved, while England had made an enemy where she 
might have secured a friend. 

Upon Austria the ignoble part which she had played brought 
immediate humiliation as well as ultimate disaster. All Bud's 
efforts failed to exclude Cavour from the Congress 
of Paris or to Prevent him from stating the Italian 
case against Austria, and he was obliged to listen 
with what patience he could muster, while Clarendon, on behalf 
of England, dwelt feelingly upon the unhappy condition of 
Italy. The Austrian statesman, by his disingenuous handling 
of events, had made his country the despised auxiliary of the 


victors, and he had won the bitter hatred of Russia by his 
ingratitude as well as by his eager advocacy of the cession of 
Bessarabia. " It will one day cost his country," said Orloff, 
" a payment in blood and tears." 

A brief notice of Balkan affairs subsequent to the war may 
here find an appropriate place. Greece had profited by the 
Crimean War to make an inroad into Thessaly, 
and had only been restrained after a joint occupa- 
tion of Peiraeus by the fleets of England and 
France. Again, in 1859, the three guaranteeing Powers were 
obliged to interfere to introduce order into the finances, and 
to obtain proper treatment for the nation's creditors. Greece 
promised, but did not perform. Meantime, King Otho's 
unpopularity was immensely increased by his German 
sympathies during the Italian war of Liberation ; and, in 
1862, the people of Athens, profiting by his absence, declared 
his deposition, and set up a provisional government. The 
King never returned. Queen Victoria's second son, the Duke 
of Edinburgh, was elected to fill his place, but was excluded by 
an agreement between the three Powers not to sanction the 
accession of any prince belonging to their own reigning families. 
The choice then fell on William, second son of Christian IX, of 
Denmark, who took the title of George I (1863). As an act of 
complaisance to the new King, England now ceded the Ionian 
Isles to Greece. Nevertheless a joint occupation of Athens was 
necessary before order could be restored. The King was then 
left to his thankless task, aided, or rather impeded, by a legis- 
lature consisting of a Single Chamber. 

The union of the Principalities of Moldavia and Wallachia 
had been proposed by Napoleon and was desired by both 
peoples. It was, however, unacceptable to 
Austria and Russia, and England, fearful of Rouman?a. f 
Russian influence, ultimately inclined against it. 
In 1858 separate and identical Constitutions were approved 
by the Powers. But the people of the Principalities resorted 
to an expedient which had escaped the calculations of the 
diplomatists, and elected the same Prince, Alexander Couza, 
to reign over both States under Turkish suzerainty. Un- 
fortunately, the clergy and the boyars were soon alienated 
by reforms affecting the property of the Church and the 
feudal obligations of the peasants, and in 1866 a body of 
conspirators invaded the palace by night and extorted the 
Prince's abdication. A National Convention was summoned 


at Bucharest, which finally elected Prince Charles of 
Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, and decreed the union of the 
Principalities under the name of Roumania. To these 
arrangements the Powers demurred, but the Roumanians held 
their ground, England and France imposed their veto upon 
coercion, and in 1866 the Sultan recognised the situation. 

Servia throughout the war had remained neutral under 
Austrian pressure. Indeed, Prince Alexander Karageorgevich 

was too Austrian in his sympathies to suit his 
Ob7enov?chs he subjects, and in 1858 he was deposed to make way 

for the return of Milosh Obrenovich, in whose 
family the Principality was now declared hereditary. On the 
death of Milosh, in 1860, he was succeeded for the second time 
by his son Michael (p. 265), who rendered his people an 
eminent service by securing the gradual withdrawal of the 
Turkish garrisons. In 1868, however, he was assassinated by 
the Karageorgevich faction ; but the attempt to restore the 
rival dynasty failed, and his cousin Milan, a lad of fourteen, 
was accepted as Prince, a representative Constitution taking 
the place of the oligarchical Senate. 



RUSSIA is a nervous patient who has been the victim of two 
rival systems of treatment. One set of advisers have pre- 
scribed plenty of fresh air and outdoor exercise, 
the other have relied upon the recuperative character of 
properties of rest and the absence of all excite- SSc politics. 
ment. Neither system has had a fair trial, for, 
at the first symptom of malaise, the patient has lost confidence 
and has begun to hanker for the alternative treatment only 
recently abandoned. Ever since the time of Peter the Great 
one school of thought looked to the introduction of Western 
ideas and institutions for the salvation of Russia, the other 
laid stress upon the preservation and development on purely 
national lines of all that was distinctively Russian. The 
advocates of that set of ideas which did not for the moment 
command the approval of the government usually possessed 
the ear of the public, for the Russian is predisposed by his 
climate to an incurable pessimism as to his surroundings. 
Besides, his exclusion from the experience of public affairs 
inclines him to abstract speculations, which often make him 
the dupe of political visionaries. Moreover, in the eyes of 
men beset by officials the government is the enemy, and the 
appropriate attitude of the subject is one of passive resistance. 
Lastly, it must never be forgotten that the final decision 
rested with one autocratic will, and that the transitions from 
the pursuit of the one ideal to that of the other had none of 
that conciliatory character, or of that permanence, which 
belong to gradual change. 

Alexander I had opened his heart to all the influences of 
the West. Long before his death public opinion had con- 
demned his activity in European politics and his 
innovations in Russia. Nicholas, amid general 
approval, had closed the doors of his Empire 
against Europe, and had pursued a policy, which, saving only 


his championship of absolutism abroad, was purely Russian. 
The Crimean War proclaimed that policy a failure, and 
the pendulum stood poised for its backward swing. 

The new Czar, Alexander IE, was a very different man 
from either his uncle or his father. He had inherited the fine 
presence and the gracious manner which belonged 
to both, but he had neither the enthusiasm of the 
one nor the inflexible will of the other. Nicholas 
had always deplored his own lack of liberal culture, and he had 
taken care that his sons Alexander and Constantine should not 
grow up under the same narrow influences. He had not failed 
to subject them both to a stern military training, but there had 
gone with it an extensive study of German romantic literature. 
Alexander entered manhood without much taste for soldiering, 
with a cultured mind and wide sympathies, but with little or 
no knowledge of the working of Russian institutions or of the 
principles which govern the social and political action of 
mankind. It followed from the character of his mind that, 
while he was singularly receptive of suggestions, he was never 
able to determine for himself the exact measures by which his 
general intentions were to be realised, and found himself 
always in the position of an enquirer charged with the duty of 
deciding between the conflicting solutions presented by his 
counsellors. This attitude of mind was both his strength and 
his weakness. Hence sprang his caution and his preference 
for advancing step by step, which made so much of his 
work permanent ; hence, too, his fatal readiness to pause, and 
even to turn back, in the face of unfavourable symptoms or 
weight of adverse counsel. 

At the moment of his accession it did not need the driving 

power of an irresistible will to set reform in motion. The 

failure of the dead Czar's system was manifest 

Eeformmove- ^ ^ f ai l ures Q f the war J^ an id j e an( J 

inexperienced society reforming ideas floated as 
nebulous and as all-pervading as in Parisian salons on the 
eve of the French Revolution. It was believed that the Czar 
had only to speak the creative word. The wishes of Nicholas 
himself were on record to urge his successor to that reform 
which was recognised as the indispensable groundwork of every 
other reform the Emancipation of the Serfs. 

There was a general agreement in tracing the misfortunes 
of Russia to the paralysis of individual enterprise resulting 
from the ubiquitous activity of officials. But the only 


alternative to officialdom in the modern State consists in a 
system of vigorous local self-government. And local self- 
government is not possible without the existence of inde- 
pendence, intelligence, and public spirit either in one class or 
in the community at large. These were the qualities which 
Emancipation was intended to bestow. 

The land of Russia was divided into large estates which 
were the property of the Crown, of the members of the reigning 
house or of individual nobles. On every estate 
the peasants enjoyed the inalienable occupation 
of their houses, their gardens, and a certain 
proportion of the land. They were bound in return to labour 
services (barschina) by means of which the lords of the soil 
cultivated that portion of their estates which they kept in 
their own hands. No serf was permitted to leave the land 
without the permission of his lord, nor did such permission 
carry emancipation with it. It was only granted to domestic 
servants in the lord's household or to the surplus population 
who sought paid labour elsewhere, and in the latter case was 
conditional upon the payment of an annual obrok, varying in 
amount between 1 and 2. Each lord was judge of his own 
peasants, and was responsible to the government for their share 
of the taxes and their quota of recruits for the army. It is a 
mistake to regard the pictures drawn by contemporary 
Russian novelists as representing the spirit in which these 
powers were normally exercised. The novelist seeks for 
abnormal types and heightened situations. But it is clear 
that there was much room for oppression and even for brutal 
cruelty on the one side and for savage retaliation on the other. 

It will conduce to an understanding of Alexander's methods 
to study the steps by which his great reform was worked out. 
His first allusion to the subject was in reply to a 
congratulatory address from the Moscow nobility. 
While denying his intention to proclaim emancipa- 
tion by his own authority, he declared himself not altogether 
opposed to it, and suggested that a change, which was probably 
inevitable, would be more satisfactorily effected from above 
than from below. A year later, in January, 1857, a committee 
was appointed to study the subject. During the discussions 
of this committee the policy subsequently adopted first took 
tangible shape in the recommendations of Nicholas Miliutine. 
He laid emphasis upon three postulates. First, that a grant 
of emancipation without land would only result in the 


introduction of the diseases of the Western labour-market ; 
secondly, that the estates of the nobility, being theoretically 
held by service, and not as freeholds, could legally be resumed ; 
and thirdly, that the peasants could only be restrained from the 
sale of any lands allotted to them by making these the 
common property of the whole village -community, or mir. 

By a happy coincidence these suggestions were seconded by 
an application on the part of the nobles of Kieff , Volhynia and 

Podolia for permission to complete by grants of 
committees?* 1 l an d an emancipation already partially effected. 

Alexander profited by the opportunity to send a 
copy of the petition to all the provinces, following it up in 
November, 1857, with a decree ordering the formation of Pro- 
vincial Committees of landowners to discuss the question ; and 
by another decree in March, 1858, Miliutine's principles 
were recognised as the basis of the changes contemplated, 
subject to a money compensation to be guaranteed to the 
landowner by the State. At this stage selfish interests began 
to appear ; there was a good deal of difference of opinion, and 
most committees sent in minority reports. The Czar accord- 
ingly threw his own personal influence into the scale by 
travelling round the country to win over important 
waver ers. 

The information and recommendations supplied by the 
Provincial Committees were next arranged, compared and 

embodied in a code by a drafting Commission ; 

ofthe c s?rfs n and the result of tneir labours was laid before the 
Principal Committee, whose proceedings were 
quickened by the Czar's influence and by the appointment of 
the Grand Duke Constantine as President. Finally, the 
Council of State gave its approval on March 3, 1861. By the 
new law serfage was entirely abolished. Each peasant entered 
into full possession of his cottage and garden-plot. The mir 
received sufficient land for allotment among its members, 
the individual lot varying in different regions with the pro- 
ductivity of the soil from 5J to 27 J acres. The remaining 
land became the property of the lords in absolute ownership, 
and, by way of compensation for the loss of labour-dues, 
the peasants were to buy their allotments, the State 
advancing the purchase-money and collecting it by instalments, 
called " Redemption Annuities," spread over forty-nine years. 
Domestic servants and serfs on the obrok system received their 
liberty, but without a grant of land. These arrangements were 


worked out on each estate by those concerned in separate 
" Regulation Charters," and differences were settled by 

It was not to be expected that a change involving so many 
interests and effected through so many different agencies 
should have given entire satisfaction. It is, 
however, a tolerable proof of the fairness of the Emancipation. 
arrangements that neither party was wholly 
contented. The peasants regarded the land as their own, and 
resented payment. They complained that the amount 
allotted was too small, and indeed the growth of population 
ultimately produced this result. The disappearance of the 
rights of pasture and of cutting wood on the lord's domain was 
a serious loss. On the other hand, except in the fertile Black 
Earth Region of the central provinces, the landowner was 
commonly ruined. His land at the time of the change was 
frequently mortgaged, in fact, it was the attraction of ready 
money which had induced him to part with it. There was so 
much haste in realising the government bonds, in which 
payment was made, that they became much depreciated in 
value. Ready money was quickly spent by persons unused 
to cash transactions, and labour was difficult to obtain. On 
both sides all the evils appeared which attend a sudden 
transition from a condition of fixed status to one of free 

Upon this foundation the Czar and his advisers proceeded 
to rear a system of local government. The mir was to 
manage its own small affairs, and in each volost, 
or group of ten or more villages, there was set up J^t! Govern " 
a Zemstvo, or District Council elected by the 
landowners, the mirs and the towns conjointly. The District 
Zemstvos of each province elected the members of a Provincial 
Zemstvo. Education, the care of the roads and public health, 
were placed under their authority (1864). 

The law, since its codification under Nicholas, was good, 
the administration of justice was bad. The latter was now 
reformed with the object of making the Courts 
of Law entirely independent of the executive, 
and of securing publicity of procedure, oral pleadings 
and the co-operation of a jury in all important trials. The 
whole system of law courts was reorganised, and Justices 
of the Peace, charged with the duty of hearing minor cases, 
were to be elected by the Zemstvos. 


Besides these reforms, the finances were set in order, and 
the army and navy reorganised on modern lines. The term of 
military service was reduced from twenty-five years to fifteen, 
and the first ironclads were built. Much attention was paid 
to railway development, some 600 miles being laid down 

Less wise were the wholesale relaxations of the Press 
censorship and of the restrictions upon the admission of 

students to the Universities. A deluge of crude 
reaction! 83 f political speculation and of virulent, and often 

ignorant, attack upon the government began to 
pour out of the Press. A crowd of poor students living in cir- 
cumstances of the utmost misery, underwent an intellectual 
training with little prospect in the existing state of society of 
finding scope for their acquirements, and turned their new- 
found mental activity against society as they found it con- 
stituted. Indeed, by 1865, the pendulum had reached the 
end of its swing. Disappointed enthusiasm, baffled self- 
seeking and injured material interests were ranging themselves 
everywhere against the government or rallying to the support 
of traditional usages with the cry that it was time to stop. 

But the most powerful impulse to reaction was given by 
a series of disturbances in Poland. That unhappy country 

in her suicidal madness was destined, like another 
Poland?" in Samson, to drag down in her expiring struggles 

the liberties of her captor. The events of the 
Crimean War had re-kindled the national hopes. The Polish 
nationalists were divided into two sections of opinion the 
" Reds " and the " Whites." Of these, the Reds had made 
the revolution of 1831 (p. 138), and demanded nothing less 
than the restoration of Polish independence and the frontiers 
of 1772. The Whites, on the other hand, who were principally 
nobles, and still looked to Prince Adam Czartoryski as their 
leader, sought the restoration of the autonomy under the 
Russian Crown granted by the Constitution of 1815. But the 
counsels of both sections, and especially of the Reds, were 
unhappily warped by the fanaticism of groups of exiles settled 
in distant European capitals, who had ceased to have any 
stake in the prosperity of their country, and shared nothing 
with her but her memories of hatred. 

Alexander had solemnly warned the Poles of the futility 
of J,heir political aspirations. He was, however, prepared to go 
far in a policy of conciliation. He appointed Michael 


Gortchakoff viceroy, restored the ballot for recruits, instead 
of the system by which political malcontents were selected, 
and offered a general amnesty to the exiles, A i exanderand 
which, however, only resulted in the readmission Poland, 
of irreconcilable elements. 

Meanwhile, the Whites, under the guidance of Count 
Andrew Zamoiski, had embarked upon a new line of policy. 
The nobles enjoyed an immense power over their 
serfs, and were supported by the Roman Catholic 
clergy. Emancipation was in the air, and the 
Polish leaders were not slow to realise that the Russian 
government was in a position to steal an advantage by coming 
forward as the champion of the oppressed. An Agricultural 
Society was therefore founded for the encouragement of farming 
and for the improvement of the peasant's lot, and the liberation 
of the serfs was proposed in 1860. The Russian government 
vetoed a suggestion which sought to anticipate its own plans. 
This action provoked intense excitement and played into the 
hands of the Reds. Nationalist demonstrations took place 
in Warsaw, and, though no actual violence was used on the 
popular side, the troops were more than once employed with 
deadly effect against the mob. Gortchakoff and successive 
Viceroys lost their nerve, concessions were unwisely made 
without a preliminary attempt to restore order, with the 
only result that the malcontents were emboldened till the 
authorities were goaded into an unwise severity. The Agri- 
cultural Society was even suppressed. 

Alexander was greatly distressed, and readily listened to 
the counsels of the Marquis Vielopolski, one of the small group 
of Poles, who saw that the future of their country olgki 
depended upon co-operating with the better 
intentions of the Russian government. In 1862 the Grand 
Duke Constantine, whose liberal instincts were notorious, was 
sent to Poland as Viceroy, with Vielopolski as his chief adviser. 
The new government behaved with extraordinary self-restraint 
in the face of much provocation. Constantine appeared 
everywhere in Polish uniform, spoke in the Polish language, 
surrounded himself with Poles, began to repair the ancient 
palace and answered an attempt at his assassination with 
friendly proclamations. But even the Whites were irrecon- 
cilable. Headed by Zamoiski, they demanded the Constitu- 
tion of 1815, and with it the restoration of the Polish districts 
of Russia (p. 132). Well might Vielopolski exclaim, " Good 


may be done for the Poles sometimes, but through the Poles 
themselves never." 

His patience was now broken, and his attempt to restore the 
old recruiting law and under it to seize the ringleaders of dis- 
content on the night of January 15, 1863, pre- 
cipitated the struggle. The enterprise was ill- 
managed, many of the intended victims escaped to 
the woods, and guerilla war began ; Mieroslavski, that stormy 
petrel of revolution, being declared dictator by the Nationalists. 
But this time there was no regular Polish army to depend upon, 
and organised resistance was brief. Bismarck securely guarded 
the Polish frontier of Prussia, a service which was to be repaid 
tenfold in the sequel, and the rebels were pushed into Galicia. 
But even then a secret national committee, whom the govern- 
ment could never track down, continued to gather supplies and 
money from patriots, and maintained a guerilla war, not with- 
out hope of European intervention. Such action was indeed 
proposed by Napoleon to England, and he lived to rue the 
suggestion. England contented herself with recommending 
the restoration of the Constitution of 1815, a proposal showing 
the most profound ignorance of the situation, as Alexander 
Gortchakoff was able to demonstrate. She joined later with 
Austria and France in sending simultaneous notes to the 
Russian government, and supported by the latter Power came 
forward once again in June with a proposal for a European 
conference, only to be met by a very peremptory assertion 
of Russia's right to manage her own business. 

The old Russian party, championed by the vigorous 
journalism of Katkoff, were now carrying public feeling with 
n re si n th em > for opposition to Polish claims united all 
parties. The conduct of Muravieff , who by the most 
savage repression had tamed rebellion in Lithuania, was loudly 
applauded. Count Berg superseded Constantine, and lost no time 
in applying the same methods with a like result. No sooner was 
order restored than Nicholas Miliutine was sent to Poland to 
effect the liberation of the serfs and to destroy thereby the in- 
fluence of the Polish nobility for ever. The peasants received 
the freehold of their lands, and the State undertook to bear 
the costs of compensation. The right of access to forest and 
pasture was deliberately secured to them with the object of 
creating a permanent source of dispute with their former lords. 
Each village obtained the right to manage its own affairs 
independently of nobles and clergy, and the power of the latter 


was broken by an extensive dissolution of monasteries and by 
the confiscation of their revenues, which left them dependent 
on State salaries. 

Far more important than its effects in Poland was the 
influence exerted by the Polish outbreak upon Russian opinion, 
and therefore indirectly upon the Czar. Reaction 
was now the order of the day. By 1865, 
Alexander II had in his own person passed from 
the phase of political thought which had animated his uncle to 
that which had dominated his father. It is to his credit that 
the change was not final. The pendulum was to swing 
forwards and backwards, and forwards again, before the 
tragedy of the concluding scene beside the Catherine Canal. 



Loins NAPOLEON BONAPARTE occupied in the year 1856 a posi- 
tion of unchallenged authority in France, and of commanding 
influence in Europe. All his personal ambitions 

S a i856 0n111 had been fulfilled > and a fair field seemed to lie 

before him for realising those plans for the good 
of France and of mankind which, to do him no more than 
justice, were never absent from his thoughts. 

The Constitution which he had established put no control 
upon his will. The ministers were appointed and dismissed 

by him, justice was administered in his name, 
TheConstitu- every public servant was bound to him by an 
Empire! 1 " oa ^ n ^ allegiance. He selected and presided over 

the Council of State ; the Senate, or Upper 
House, consisted of his nominees ; the Corps Ugislatif or lower 
Chamber, though elected by universal suffrage, was summoned, 
prorogued, and dissolved by his will, and could do no more 
than discuss and approve the measures submitted to it by 
the Emperor. He was supreme commander of the army and 
navy ; peace and war, treaties and alliances were in his hands 
to make and unmake. 

Material improvement was the key-note of his domestic 
policy. His speech at Bordeaux, in 1852, proclaimed his 

intentions. After declaring that the Empire was 
perity stic pr S synonymous with the reign of peace, religion and 

morality, he proceeded, " We have wide tracts of 
waste to open for cultivation, roads to build, harbours to dig, 
rivers to adapt for navigation, canals to complete, a network 
of railways to perfect. There lies opposite Marseilles a 
boundless realm to be assimilated to France, our western ports 
await more rapid communication with America. Lastly, 
there are everywhere ruins to rebuild, false gods to cast down, 
truths to be made victorious." To these aims Napoleon III 
remained constant. Charitable institutions were founded, 


grants were made for the improvement of working-class 
dwellings, a credit fonder, or land bank, was established offering 
easy loans for agricultural improvements, and a credit 
mdbilier to do the like for industrial enterprise. Railways, 
steamships and the telegraph were steadily encouraged. In spite 
of the misfortunes of floods, famine and cholera, prosperity 
was everywhere manifest, and nowhere more so than in the 
capital itself. Here a rapid industrial development gave rise 
to active speculation. Immense fortunes were quickly made and 
as quickly spent, and an extravagant and somewhat vulgar 
tone dominated society. In 1853 the Emperor had married a 
Spanish lady, Countess Eugenie de Monti jo, and the Court of 
the Tuileries set an example of lavish splendour. Paris, 
rebuilt by Haussmann with wide and handsome boulevards 
(not without some idea of making street warfare more difficult 
in the future), became the pleasure city of Europe. The 
Crimean War shed the glamour of military glory on the Imperial 
Crown, and the Congress of Paris seated its wearer at the head 
of the Council-table of Europe. The birth of an heir, the 
ill-fated Prince Imperial, seemed an earnest of Fortune's 
continued favours to the new dynasty. 

Yet at this very moment Napoleon was being insensibly 
involved in that series of events which formed the first drama 
in the trilogy of his ruin. And the siren voice 
that lured him on was, appropriately enough, a 
voice from an islet in far distant seas the voice 
of the man of St. Helena. Little did the fallen Emperor 
imagine when he re-edited his career for the benefit of posterity 
(p. 14) that his own nephew and destined successor would be 
the most uncritical of his many dupes. The " Napoleonic 
Legend " consisted, it will be remembered, of two amazing 
propositions. The first asserted that the Emperor had been a 
conqueror only that he might bring the blessings of freedom 
to enslaved peoples, the second that he had been a despot 
only that in his good time he might the more surely establish 
liberty. Louis Napoleon had made his uncle's precepts his 
study day and night, but he had paid less attention to his 
practice. With his strange inability to recognise essential 
inconsistencies between conflicting ideas he had firmly asso- 
ciated the supposed liberationist policy with that extension of 
the French frontiers and that predominance of French 
influence, which his uncle's reign had witnessed. He had 
failed to perceive that the carving and re-carving to which 


Europe had been subjected by its conqueror was one of the 
causes of the organised uprising of 1813. He was resolved to 
play the Liberator's part and to claim the Liberator's reward. 
Similarly, at some distant day he would lay down his autocratic 
power to receive a new authority under popular forms from the 
hands of a grateful nation. We have already seen the first of 
these illusions at work in his somewhat tentative support of the 
unionist idea in the Principalities (p. 275). His diplomatic 
intervention on behalf of Poland was still in the distant 
future. But Italy's demand that he should make good his 
professions in her case (the crying case of despised national 
claims) had been audible at the Congress of Paris ; and Italy 
now possessed a man armed with the craft and determination 
to exploit those professions in her interest. 

We have already indicated the debt which Piedmont owed 
in the dark days which followed Novara to King Victor 

Emmanuel, a debt which Italy at large was to 
manuei Em share. It is not for nothing that the squat 

figure of the valiant little monarch, with the face 
of almost savage ugliness, with the gigantic moustache, the 
flat nose and cavernous nostrils rides in triumph in many an 
Italian piazza. His bursts of ill-temper, his coarse tastes, his 
open profligacy were more than atoned for by his strong 
commonsense, his steady consistency of purpose and the 
downright openness of his speech and manners. Italy under- 
stood him and never distrusted him, as she distrusted some 
of her more gifted leaders, and in the hour of failure the panic 
that swayed others had no power over the sturdy nature of 
the Royal sportsman and mountaineer. Yet it was not he 
that made Italy. 

Nor was it the Marquis D'Azeglio, the leader of the Con- 
servatives, the resolute opponent of further fighting, who had 

induced the King to dissolve the militant Pied- 
Slntetry?' 8 montese parliament for the second time, and appeal 

to the commonsense and loyalty of the nation 
by the Proclamation of Moncalieri. But his work too was in- 
dispensable, and is well expressed in his own words, " I am mini- 
ster that I may save this country to be the stronghold of Italy." 
In character a strange blend of the artistic and aristocratic 
temperaments, he was not likely to initiate a vigorous forward 
policy. The national independence and honour of Piedmont 
were his concern. Yet, by making these secure, he provided 
the indispensable condition of the Risorgimento, or Resurrection 


of Italy. And care for national independence soon brought 
him into conflict with Rome. 

The Pope had spoken the word, and everywhere the clergy 
had rallied to the side of reaction. In Piedmont they con- 
stituted the strongest influence opposed to the 
Constitutional and anti-Austrian policy of the Laws Sl Cardl 
government, and nowhere did they enjoy greater 
power for mischief. Ecclesiastical courts still judged cases 
in which clerics were involved, besides a mass of other matters, 
supposed to possess a semi-religious character. The right of 
affording asylum to offenders against the law existed in many 
places. Marriage was entirely, and education partially, under 
priestly control. No restrictions existed on the inheritance of 
property by the Church, monasteries abounded, and yet the 
government was obliged to contribute to assist the ill-paid and 
hard-working parish priests. Many of these powers were 
inconsistent with the new law of Piedmont, but all attempts 
at an accommodation with Rome broke down owing to the 
obstinacy of Antonelli. In 1850 Siccardi was instructed to lay 
before Parliament a partial scheme of reform. The ecclesiastical 
courts and the right of asylum were thereby abolished, and a 
law of mortmain placed restrictions on the acquisition of 
property by the Church. The result was an incident which 
strengthened the hands of the ministers. One of their number, 
Santa Rosa, Minister of Commerce and Agriculture, a man of 
unaffected piety, was refused the last consolations of the 
Church upon his death-bed by the friar who confessed him. 
This act of mean spite hardened the heart of the public for 
the struggle which was obviously impending over the marriage 
question and the existence of the monasteries. 

The death of Santa Rosa had another and an indirect result. 
It brought into the ministry the protagonist in the struggle 
for Italian liberty, Count Camillo Benso di Cavour 
(October, 1850). The exterior of the man did little 
to suggest either his noble descent, to which indeed he attached 
no importance, or the abilities which were to sway the destinies 
of Italy and of Europe. His square, plain face, clean-shaved but 
for a frill of ragged beard, the half -closed eyes that blinked 
through his spectacles, the merry humour that lurked at the 
corners of his mouth, the commonplace figure and the ill-fitting, 
untidy clothes were suggestive rather of the comic middle-class 
father of the stage. At least, his appearance was not inconsistent 
with the bent of a mind intensely independent and practical. 



He had visited England and studied her institutions, her 
agriculture, and her trade with close interest. On his return 
he had devoted himself to the improvement of his estates at 
Leri, and was recognised as a first-rate authority on all 
economic questions, displaying prodigious industry in all that 
he undertook, as well as unusual powers of memory, and a 
unique gift for marshalling facts. Italy had failed in 1848 
because she had failed to respect facts, and here was a man who 
rendered them daily and hourly homage. Perhaps few guessed 
that this solid, genial incarnation of commonsense could spend 
himself for an ideal, or could be transformed by devotion to 
the one object of pursuit into the boldest, the wariest, and at 
need, the most unscrupulous antagonist that ever played for 
high political stakes. Yet, though he stooped to the tricks of 
the diplomatic gaming-table, he never, like Bismarck, sub- 
scribed to its creed. He was free from cynicism, and never 
lost his faith in humanity, in political freedom, and in the 
ultimate triumph of good. 

His activity in his new office was unresting. " He will," 
said the King to D'Azeglio, " end by displacing you all." 
Indeed, his masterful nature made him a difficult 
comesVSmier. colleague, and at the beginning of 1852 his agree- 
ment for common action with Rattazzi and the 
Left Centre party, concluded without the sanction of his chief, 
led to his resignation. But there was work to be done which 
needed stronger hands than D'Azeglio's. The introduction of 
a Bill to make the registration of marriages the affair of the 
State, while insisting in all but exceptional cases on the 
religious ceremony, produced an outcry at Rome, and even 
the King bent to the storm. D'Azeglio resigned, and Cavour, 
with the support of the Right and Left Centres, became 
Premier (October, 1852). 

He had not taken office with any intention of being tender 
to clerical scruples. The wealth of the Church made it im- 
possible for a government in daily difficulty for 
funds to consent any longer to subsidise the 
parish priests. A Bill was introduced dissolving 
all religious houses not engaged in practical work, while 
permitting the inmates to remain in residence during their 
lives, and levying contributions upon bishoprics and well- 
paid livings. The funds thus set at liberty were to be applied 
to pensioning the monks and nuns, and to increasing the in- 
comes of the parochial clergy. Once more Rome put out all 


her strength and chance played into her hands. Within one 
month the King's mother, wife and brother all died, and 
Victor Emmanuel, recognising the signs of Divine displeasure, 
faltered and urged a compromise. Cavour resigned. But 
D'Azeglio was at the King's elbow with wise counsel, and the 
Royal assent was secured. Cavour returned to office, and the 
Bill was carried. 

At the very moment of this crisis the ministry had just 
taken the momentous step in foreign policy described in a 
previous chapter (p. 273). England and France, 
engaged in the Crimea, desired the co-operation of Crimean war 
Piedmont, not only as an accession of much- 5?pari?. 8re 
needed strength, but as a means of liberating 
Austria from apprehension in Italy, so as to leave her free to 
make common cause against Russia. Cavour, as we have 
seen, wished to place himself in close relations with two 
powerful friends, to prevent Austria from monopolising their 
gratitude and to secure a place for Piedmont at the council- 
table of Europe. At home his policy was ill-understood. It 
seemed at once a dissipation of the resources that should have 
been husbanded for Italy's day of need, and in the weakened 
state of the national finances a reckless extravagance. Only 
Cavour 's personal influence and the steady support of the 
King carried the day. But after months of anxious waiting, 
the part played by La Marmora and his troops in the victory 
of the Tchernaya, the admission of Cavour to the Congress of 
Paris, and Lord Clarendon's frank denunciation of misgovern- 
ment in Italy were recognised as gains well worth the price 
that had been paid. As Cavour himself said, " The disgrace of 
Novara is effaced," and " the case of Italy is before the bar of 

And Austria was swift to mark her peril. At the beginning 
of 1857, Francis Joseph's younger brother, the ill-fated 
Maximilian (p. 320), was sent as Viceroy to 
Lombardy. His noble character, his open mind, 
and his kind heart might have done much in a 
situation that had not been embittered beyond the power of 
remedial measures. Not only did he lighten taxation and pro- 
mote railway enterprise and education, but he would gladly 
have conceded self -government, have propitiated Piedmont with 
Parma and Modena, and have rescued Romagna from the Pope 
by annexation. But the officials and the military party never 
gave him a free hand. 


Meanwhile, Cavour's domestic policy was directed to the 
end of making " Italy's case " as convincing as possible. 
Everything was done to promote the freedom, 
Europe nt and prosperity, and industrial progress of Piedmont. 
A whole band of writers made known to Europe 
the enlightenment of the little State, and showed up every 
mistake and act of tyranny committed by her enemies. The 
Italian refugees within her borders were closely watched. Pied- 
mont had paid a stiff price for acquiring the services of the 
noblest and ablest of the Italian patriots by suffering the simul- 
taneous influx of elements of a very different character. And it 
was at some sacrifice of popularity that Cavour was obliged 
to guard the frontier against any imprudent attempt to carry 
help to a hopeless rising at Milan, in 1853, followed by cruelties 
and injustice against which he lodged a vigorous protest. 

We have seen that Cavour put no faith in Charles Albert's 
maxim, " Italia fara di se" (Italy will manage her own business). 
Since the Congress of Paris, every faculty had 
been bent to the single aim of securing that when 
Piedmont at last drew the sword one or other of 
her powerful friends should stand beside her. England had 
been the more profuse in sympathy, but Cavour soon found 
that remonstrances and congresses were her methods, and 
securities for good government in existing States her aims. 
Her devotion to peace and her traditional friendship for 
Austria assured him that she would do nothing to disturb the 
status quo. There was more to be hoped of Napoleon III, 
and by every appeal to generosity, ambition, and vanity 
Cavour strove to lead him on. There were, however, two 
serious difficulties. Napoleon had committed France to the 
support of the Papacy. The French garrison remained in 
Rome, and could not be withdrawn without offending the 
Catholic party in France. Italian unity and the Temporal 
Power were mutually inconsistent. Moreover, the Emperor 
had his own solution of the Italian problem, a solution borrowed 
from the policy of the first Napoleon. He was prepared to 
favour an extension of Piedmont, which might thus answer 
to the old Cisalpine Republic, but he aimed at establishing 
a Kingdom of Tuscany for his cousin, Prince Napoleon, 
and at substituting another cousin, Lucien Murat, for the 
Bourbon dynasty in the Two Sicilies. The Italian States 
together were to be constituted into a federation under the 
presidency of the Pope and the protection of France. 


Cavour was therefore compelled to mine deeper than his 
prospective ally. National feeling would never accept so 
partial a scheme of redemption, and to national 
feeling the policy of Piedmont had been one long so C e ie ?y. tional 
appeal. A great step was taken when Pallavicino, 
with the sympathy of the noble republican Daniele Maniii 
founded the " National Society " to promote the union of 
Italy under Victor Emmanuel (1857), which, through its 
active secretary, the Sicilian La Farina, was soon in touch with 
every shade of patriotic opinion. Mazzini's dislike counted 
for nothing. His encouragement of the hopeless rising of 
1853, and of Pisacane's expedition, to be noticed later, dis- 
credited him. The republicans followed Manin. Among 
these men was Garibaldi, who had quarrelled with Mazzini 
during the defence of Rome, in 1849. From his island home 
in Caprera, he was brought by Pallavicino to visit Cavour and 
Victor Emmanuel, in 1856, and succumbed to the spell of the 
King's hearty and honest manner. 

But the plot within a plot needed wary treading. Napoleon 
could not be allowed to suspect the larger design. " If need 

be," said Cavour to La Farina, " I will, like Peter, . 

,, . , ,. ' . . ' , ir> ' The Orsini plot, 

deny you. And at the beginning of 1858 

occurred an incident which bade fair to scare the Emperor out 
of all his sympathies with Italy. In the January of that year 
an Italian exile in London, named Orsini, persuaded, quite 
wrongly, that Napoleon alone prevented France from aiding 
his country, flung three bombs at the Emperor as he was 
driving to the opera, injuring 148 persons and causing 8 deaths, 
but doing no harm to his intended victim. The incident 
deprived Napoleon for the moment of his self-command. He 
rushed into an angry quarrel with England for harbouring 
refugees, which nearly resulted in war, and he wrote a strong 
remonstrance to Victor Emmanuel, which the King answered 
with a dignity and firmness which won the Emperor's respect. 
But, most surprising consequence of all, he resolved to put his 
plans for Italy's redemption into immediate execution. We 
can scarcely doubt that Orsini 's dignified and affecting letter 
written on the eve of suffering the penalty for his crime, 
convinced him that he could not longer dally with Italian hopes 
without sacrificing the opportunity for ever. On July 20 
Cavour met him privately by his own invitation at Plombieres, 
a watering-place in the Vosges. 

Terms were soon arranged. Piedmont was to put 100.000 


men into the field, and France was to send 200,000 across the 
Alps to join them. Lombardy, Venetia, Parma, 
Modena, and the Romagna were to fall to Victor 
Emmanuel. Tuscany and Umbria were to form 
a Central Italian kingdom. Revolution was to be left to do 
the work of the allies in Naples, after which the claims of 
Murat were to be considered. The Pope was to retain Rome 
and its immediate surroundings, and a scheme of federation 
was to be arranged. As a reward for his assistance the 
Emperor claimed the hand of Princess Clotilde, the King's 
daughter, for Prince Napoleon, son of his uncle Jerome, and 
the cession of Savoy and Nice to France. 

The one object of Cavour was now to provoke immediate 
war. All promised fairly for his plans in the early months of 
1859. Napoleon significantly told the Austrian 
" ambassador that he regretted that mutual 
" relations were not as good as they had been." Victor 
Emmanuel followed up the announcement with a speech to 
Parliament, in which his sympathetic reference to the grido di 
dolor e (cry of agony) which sounded in his ears from every 
corner of Italy was received with tumultuous enthusiasm. A 
week later Prince Napoleon visited Turin to claim the sacrifice 
of the luckless Clotilde. In February the Emperor authorised 
the publication of a pamphlet entitled " Napoleon III and the 
Pope," in which his views were explained. All seemed ready, 
and volunteers were speeding from every part of Italy to Pied- 
mont, when England, now under Lord Derby, took alarm. 

A special mission was sent, first to Napoleon then to Vienna, 
w suggesting the removal of grievances. Austria was con- 
ciliatory, but demanded that Piedmont should 
Sbrbffor disarm. Meanwhile, the Czar suggested a Congress, 
peace? The suggestion was awkward for Austria ; she 

dared not refuse, but knew well that the decision of 
Europe was likely to go against her. She assented with the pro- 
viso that Piedmont should first disarm, hoping that the national 
indignation at disarmament would overthrow Cavour. That 
patient intriguer was nearly at the end of his resources, but 
made a last desperate throw. Speeding to Paris he saw 
Napoleon. What passed is not certainly known, but it is 
probable that he threatened to reveal to astonished Europe 
every word that had passed at Plombieres. Having made 
sure of the Emperor, he flatly declined the Austrian condition. 
England was not to be beaten. She now produced a suggestion 


that the disarmament should apply to both sides alike, and that 
the Italians should be represented at the Congress. Napoleon 
bade Cavour yield, and, overwhelmed with despair, he bowed 
to necessity. It seemed that he, like all the others, had 
laboured in vain for Italy. 

It was the darkness before the dawn. Before yet his 
submission had reached Vienna, the military party, weary of 
Piedmontese provocation, had despatched an 
ultimatum offering the choice between disarma- 
ment and instant war. Joyfully Cavour chose 
and claimed the fulfilment of his ally's promises. 

His joy might well have been tempered with anxiety. 
Thanks to the circumstances of the declaration of war the 
game was in the hands of the Austrian commander, 
Giulay. He could have crushed the Piedmontese 
in the position they had selected north of Ales- 
sandria, where they covered both the passage of the Po and the 
road to Genoa, by which the French were expected. He 
could have struck at Turin, which their plan of operations com- 
pelled them to uncover. After much hesitation and delay, he 
attempted the latter course of action, but recoiled alarmed by 
the fierce hostility of the country, and anxious for the safety 
of his line of retreat. Before the French came up the Pied- 
montese had repulsed an attack at Montebello, and shortly 
afterwards cleared their left by an action at Palestro for a 
general advance on Milan. 

Giulay now took up a position behind the Ticino 
covering Magenta. On June 4 the French Guards crossed 
the river on the partially destroyed railway 
bridge and engaged the Austrians in front. Here 
they were almost overwhelmed before late in the afternoon the 
divisions of Niel and Canrobert came up in, support. One hour 
later MacMahon, who had crossed the Ticino further north, ap- 
peared on the right flank of the enemy, who thereupon retired. 
The Piedmontese who had followed the flank attack to menace 
the Austrian rear scarcely came into action at all. Meanwhile, 
Garibaldi, with his irregular bands of Cacciatori degli Alpi, was 
conducting a brilliant guerilla campaign among the foot-hills of 
the Alps, well out to the left of the main army, which, while pro- 
ducing but little effect on the general course of the war, served to 
kindle national enthusiasm, to enhance his own reputation, and 
to train his men for greater enterprises in the not distant future. 

On June 8 the allies entered Milan and proclaimed the 


annexation of Lombardy. The rulers of Parma and Modena 
fled, and the Romagna rose in rebellion. 

Interrupted only by Bazaine's attack on their rearguard at 
Melegnano the Austrians retired behind the Mincio (p. 230). 
But, before the allies reached that river, Francis 
Joseph, now in command, had been persuaded to 
resume the offensive. It was his intention to occupy the hills 
facing the enemy to the south-west of Peschiera, and with the 
rest of his troops to cross the stream lower down at Goito, and 
to drive the allies northward against the Alps. The plan 
failed. After terrible slaughter the French stormed the 
Austrian centre at Solferino, and the Piedmontese at San 
Martino carried the heights opposite the allied left. Mel's 
division securely covered the right flank (June 23). The 
Austrians fell back upon the Alps, and by the first week in 
July the decisive battle was expected near Verona. 

News, not of battle but of peace, falsified the expectations 

of Europe and overwhelmed with dismay the Emperor's own 

allies. He had met Francis Joseph at Villafranca, 

Viiiaf?anca 0f an( ^ ^ a ^ a g ree( I to an armistice. The younger man 

had got the better of the elder. Piedmont was to 

have Lombardy and Parma for her pains. In Venetia, Modena 

and the Romagna things were to be as if there had never been 

a war. Federation was to be attempted under Papal 


Small wonder that Europe was amazed. Yet it was all in 
reality very simple. Neither for the first time nor for the last 
had Napoleon, with his ill-defined ideas, allowed 
motive?. 11 '* himself to be carried by the activity of his fellow- 
conspirators into a situation the consequences of 
which he had not clearly faced. Campaigning was disagree- 
able to his love of personal comfort ; the horrible carnage of 
Solferino had shocked his humane temperament ; the Italian 
movement was slipping out of his control and threatened to 
involve him in trouble with the Pope and with his Catholic 
subjects at home; the two victories had not been decisive, and the 
Quadrilateral might again turn the tide of the war. Worst of all, 
rumours had gone abroad about Savoy and Nice, and Prussia, 
seeing in the extension of the French frontier to the Alps the ear- 
nest of similar designs upon the Rhine, had mobilised her forces. 
Small wonder, too, that Cavour was enraged with an ally 
who had promised to free North Italy from the Alps to the 
Adriatic, and the more so when he found that his own King 


intended to sign the treaty. Hurrying to the seat of war he 
violently urged that Piedmont should persevere alone, and left 
the Royal presence with words of insolent and 
ungovernable anger. But bitter as was his own victor Em- 

, . 6 % T . -r^, 111 f manuel and 

disappointment, Victor Emmanuel had not for- cavour. 
gotten Novara. And he saw that France had 
check-mated Austria, and knew that, with Austria powerless 
to interfere, Italy at last " would manage her own business." 
His confidence was justified. Early in the war Parma, 
Modena, the Romagna, and Tuscany had declared against the 
Austrians, and had offered a dictatorship to Victor 
Emmanuel. In the last-named state an effort ftates? ntral 
had been made by the Florentine nobles to 
induce the Grand Duke to join the allies. A feeble attempt 
on his part to overawe the city with artillery led to a demand 
for his abdication ; and this amiable but ineffective personage 
left Florence for the last time followed by cries of " Meet you 
again in Paradise." Piedmontese commissioners had promptly 
been sent into the revolted districts. The news of Villafranca 
changed the situation. Cavour 's successor, Rattazzi, was 
obliged at least to make a show of respecting the treaty, and 
the commissioners were recalled. D'Azeglio in Romagna 
declined to quit his post ; Farini in Parma and Modena . 
remained in a private capacity ; at Florence the stem Tuscan 
patriot, Baron Ricasoli, refused to treat with the Grand Duke. 
The four States formed a league of defence, and Piedmont 
allowed General Faiiti, with Garibaldi under him, to set out to 
take command of their forces. The next step of the revolted 
districts was to decree, through assemblies elected by popular 
suffrage, their own annexation to Piedmont. The offer was re- 
fused, but the refusal was. understood in the sense in which it 
was meant. Napoleon was in sore perplexity. He was bound to 
stand by his decision at Villafranca, but very shame forbade him 
to desert the Italians. He refused to allow Austria to interfere, 
he refused to allow the Central States to elect a regent. He had 
at first resolved to shuffle off his difficulties on to the shoulders 
of a Congress, and Europe was ready to accept the burden. 
Then suddenly he changed his mind. He saw that the Central 
States must carry their point unless indeed, the domination of 
Austria was re-established, to which he could never consent. 
Federation was impossible, so was the establishment of a 
French dynasty in Tuscany. He resolved to agree with the 
Italians while he could claim a price for his complaisance, and 


to insist upon the surrender of Savoy and Nice. So he proceeded 
to wreck the proposal for a Congress by authorising the publica- 
tion of an inspired pamphlet entitled " The Pope and the Con- 
gress," which argued for the diminution of the Papal States. 
Austria declined to take part to be confronted with such 

Cavour was now back in office, the one man bold enough 
to make, in case of need, the sacrifice Napoleon demanded. 

He hoped, however, to avoid it. England had 
Savoy n andNice. supported the Emperor 's last change of front so 

far as the Central States were concerned, but, 
when his designs upon Nice and Savoy leaked out, she angrily 
sheered off. Piedmont, however, dared not rely on English 
support in defiance of her grasping friend, who was now deliberr 
ately making fresh difficulties to quicken her anxiety to come to 
terms. Before the plebiscites had been taken, by which the 
Central States finally declared themselves subject to Victor 
Emmanuel, Cavour had been forced to sign away Savoy and 
Nice, and the Emperor, defying engagements with England, 
had taken them without the confirmation either of plebiscites or 
of a Congress (March, 1860). It was a heavy sacrifice, but one 
rather of pride than of real strength. Nice was indeed Italian, but 
Savoy was neither by race nor traditions likely to blend naturally 
with the new state. But the demand was ungenerous. By it, 
as much as by anything else, Napoleon sacrificed the gratitude 
of his ally. With little regard to his wishes, Italy proceeded 
more vigorously than ever to " manage her own business." 

Since the events of 1849 (p. 236), " Bomba," King of the 
Two Sicilies, had abandoned himself to a mood of cheerful 

optimism. Alone of all the Italian princes, he had 
Bomba. under known how to put down revolution unaided, and 

the reflection inspired contempt for others and a 
pride in his own methods, which encouraged him to give rein 
to his unlovely individuality, making himself in the process a 
kind of diplomatic pariah in Europe. We have already 
described his attempt to assert himself as the champion of the 
Pope (p. 238) ; he had alienated Austria by a contemptuous 
refusal of her patronage and protection ; he was now to 
excite the hatred of opponents by the horrors of his domestic 
government. Bomba had a certain limited faith in his army, 
a firmer confidence in his police, and he put a wide interpreta- 
tion on the maxim that prevention is better than cure. His 
plan was to keep all his declared opponents to the number of 


some 20,000 in prison, and all whose views were doubtful 
under police surveillance. He possessed, besides, a distorted 
sense of humour which vented itself in practical jokes, and he 
had anticipated Gilbert's Mikado in the discovery of the 
humorous possibilities of punishment. To him, no doubt, the 
sufferings of his victims were a " source of merriment," but of 
a merriment by no means " innocent." 

In island prisons, or in half -ruined fortresses of the interior, 
there languished on lifelong sentences in filth and misery the 
men who were too high-minded or too intelligent 
to acquiesce in his misrule. They were chained 
to common felons or turned loose in dens of 
horror, where every iniquity was rampant, and where the 
knife alone commanded respect. It so happened that Glad- 
stone was travelling in Italy in 1851. He attended one of the 
trials, and saw with hot indignation the abominable perversion 
of justice. He succeeded in visiting two of the prisons, and 
those not the worst. His " Letter to Lord Aberdeen " made 
known to Europe " This negation of God erected into a system 
of government." 

Ferdinand defied remonstrances with all the shameless 
mendacity of a Sultan of Turkey. A raid organised by 
Mazzini under Pisacane to free the prisoners only liberated a 
few ; and the convicted felons who shared their escape ruined 
Pisacane's further attempt to excite revolution in the Basilicata 
by turning the peasants against the expedition. On the eve 
of Magenta Bomba died in peace, surrounded by a formidable 
array of relics, and left his kingdom to a spiritless 
oaf, Francis II. It was the parting of the ways 
for the Bourbon dynasty. Vainly did General 
Filangieri urge the grant of a Constitution and an under- 
standing with the allies. Twice over the friendly advances 
of Piedmont were repulsed, and Francis drifted into a league 
with Austria. The wiser policy was to be adopted before 
many months were out, but adopted too late to save his throne. 

Nationalists of the Mazzinian school had long been active 
in Sicily. In one respect no more hopeful field could have 
been found for their labours, for priest, noble, 
peasant, and townsman were all united in a 
common hatred of Naples. But it was the weak- 
ness of the Sicilians then, as in 1848, that they 
cared nothing for Italian unity, and were most unwilling to 
serve under arms. It was recognised that their deliverance 


must come from without, and already all eyes began to turn 
to Garibaldi. The suggestion found him a prey to deep 
dejection. He had been recalled from the Central States when 
on the point of invading Umbria, and he had just seen his 
native Nice bargained away by Cavour. He was strongly 
attracted, but told the Sicilian conspirators that his assist- 
ance depended on their organising an effective rising, and was 
for the moment half inclined to divert his energies to stirring 
up an anti-French movement in Nice. 

In April, 1860, an ill-managed and abortive rising under 
Riso, a plumber, took place in the streets of Palermo, which 
nevertheless spread to the surrounding district. 
Garibaldi was then near Genoa, volunteers were 
pouring in from all sides, a committee of conspirators was 
busy organising ways and means, while Cavour was playing a 
difficult part, now ostentatiously taking precautions against 
a raid on a friendly state, now giving the enterprise hil 
secret encouragement. All was ready, when tidings arrived 
that the Sicilian revolution was already flickering out, and 
the news decided Garibaldi, quite properly, to abandon the 
adventure just at the moment when Rosolino Pilo, who had 
landed in the island, was loudly proclaiming that help was 
coming, and was stirring the embers into life. Crispi, who was at 
Genoa, made the most of this later news, with the 
result tnat at length, on May 5, Garibaldi and 
his Thousand Volunteers sailed in two com- 
mandeered Rubattino steamers, the Piemonte and Lombardo, 
embarking by boat -loads off the rocks at Quarto. They were 
ill -armed with some old muskets belonging to the National 
Society, for D'Azeglio, disliking Cavour's duplicity, had 
refused to abandon his custody of the rifles belonging to the 
" Million Rifles Fund," which Garibaldi had himself founded 
to further his own earlier designs upon the Central States. 
Moreover, at the last moment the ammunition had gone astray. 
The deficiency was supplied by the Piedmontese commandant 
at Orbetello, where the steamers touched on the voyage, who was 
persuaded to believe that the King had sanctioned the enterprise. 
Such was the beginning of this hare-brained expedition, 
across a sea patrolled by Neapolitan warships, against an 
island garrisoned by nearly 25,000 regular troops. 
From the Piedmontese fleet there was little to be 
feared, for Admiral Persano had received con- 
tradictory instructions from Cavour which he very clearly 


understood to enjoin a friendly neutrality, but the enterprise 
was exposed to the gravest peril when the steamers approached 
Marsala, the point selected for the landing, and three Neapoli- 
tan war vessels hove in sight. The Garibaldians were saved 
by what was nothing short of a miracle. The presence of two 
English cruisers, wrongly suspected of collusion with the 
invaders, paralysed the resolution of the Neapolitans till the 
steamers were safely in port ; and, when at length they ventured 
to open fire, their own atrocious gunnery failed to injure their 
enemies as they marched up the exposed mole to take possession 
of the unguarded town. 

Garibaldi at once pressed on towards Palermo, joined on 
his march by bands of half -armed peasants, of little military 
value. At Calatafimi he first met the Neapolitan 
troops. Bomba's army was not ill-trained, but, 
owing to his suspicious and repressive policy, it was officered 
by men of no spirit or by ignorant fellows promoted from 
the ranks. By a series of rushes with the bayonet the invaders 
finally drove them step by step from the crest of the terraced 
hill, where they had attempted to make a stand. 

The little band moved cautiously forwards on Palermo, 
skilfully evading among the mountains the columns sent out 
in pursuit. Finally, by a night march across the 
rich plain of the Concha d'Oro, they appeared 
before the walls of the city, and though they 
failed to effect a surprise, captured the Termini gate in broad 
daylight on the following morning. Then revolution broke 
loose. For three days volunteers, citizens, and peasants 
fought their way from barricade to barricade, and from street to 
street, while the fortress of Castellamare rained projectiles 
into the town, till Lanza, the Neapolitan Commander-in-chief, 
lost heart. Through the mediation of the British admiral, 
Mundy, he concluded a capitulation, and marched out, leaving 
Palermo to opponents whose own situation was already worse 
than desperate. 

A pause was now inevitable. The expedition needed am- 
munition and reinforcements, for the Sicilians could not be 
converted into serviceable troops. Some kind of 
a government was a necessity, and Garibaldi Mischievous 
assumed the office of dictator. The actual power, crispi. 
however, was in the hands of Crispi, who, at this 
stage of his career, was unscrupulous, tactless, and factious. 
While he busily destroyed the old system and issued new laws 


which no one observed, scarcely any steps were taken to 
preserve order or to keep the administration in the hands of 
honest men. Cavour was alarmed. The outcry which had 
greeted the raid was subsiding, but he knew and dreaded the 
determination of Garibaldi, and of Garibaldi's friends, not to 
stop short till the revolution had reached Rome, a contingency 
which would doom all his plans to failure by bringing about a 
conflict with Napoleon. Accordingly he sent La Farina to 
Sicily to organise a movement for annexation. For this the 
Sicilians were ready, but Crispi and his friends would have 
none of it. Garibaldi was persuaded that Cavour meant to 
prevent his crossing the Straits of Messina, and La Farina was 
deported from the island with every circumstance of indignity. 
Garibaldi, as it happened, was not altogether wrong in his 
suspicions. For Cavour was at this time distracted with 
Cavour's lans P er pl ex ^i es which drove him to resort to such 

double-dealing as puzzled even his best friends,' 
and which even drew from him in private the confession, " If 
we had done for personal ends what we are doing for Italy we 
should be unmitigated scoundrels." Garibaldi's expedition 
had at the outset fallen in admirably with his plans. It had 
enabled Piedmont to maintain an ostentatious neutrality 
acceptable to Napoleon, and sufficiently correct to deprive 
Austria of any excuse for attacking her in North Italy. Nor 
could Austria, for the sake of whose friendship Francis II had 
sacrificed every other ally, venture to interfere with a 
revolutionary movement at such a distance from the Brenner. 
It seemed only necessary for Piedmont to look on till the 
Bourbon rule had finally collapsed. 

But after the taking of Palermo the situation had become 
very much more complicated. We have already seen that 

Garibaldi himself was not inclined to defer to 
dUenvma^ s Cavour's tacit understanding with Napoleon that 

the Papal territories should be respected. This 
was still less the case with the extremists who looked to Mazzini, 
and at any moment an ill-considered raid might provoke inter- 
vention from without. Nor was this apprehension the worst of 
Cavour's difficulties. Too late indeed to save himself, Francis 
II had come round to Filangieri's counsels, and had decided to 
seek the alliance of Piedmont and to throwhimself upon the good 
offices of France and England. Napoleon was consulted, but, 
though desirous to see the independence of Naples preserved, 
declined to take an active part, confining himself to good advice, 


and laying particular stress upon the grant of a Constitution 
and upon the Piedmontese alliance. The Constitution 
was accordingly proclaimed, and Cavour found himself con- 
fronted with a request for assistance from the very Power whose 
territories he was hoping to annex. With the eyes of Europe 
upon him he dared not refuse outright, while haunted by the 
dread that Italian patriots would misunderstand his hesitation. 
His hands were strengthened by vigorous language in the new 
North Italian Parliament, and he strove to evade the dilemma 
by demanding impossible terms. But he relied most of all 
upon exciting through his emissaries an ostensibly spontaneous 
revolution in Naples, which would at once extricate him by 
overthrowing the Bourbons, and would leave him free from 
further dependence upon the doubtful action of Garibaldi. It 
was with this hope that he had decided to secure the imme- 
diate annexation of Sicily, and even to put obstacles in the way 
of Garibaldi's passage of the Straits of Messina. But the 
expectation upon which his whole policy was based was without 
foundation. Naples remained quiet, and before long he had 
reason to be thankful that his failure to annex the island had 
saved him from official responsibility for Garibaldi's actions, 
and that he had not succeeded in excluding from Naples the 
only agency which could set revolution in motion. 

Meanwhile, the Neapolitan resistance had been considerably 
weakened by the recent Constitutional concessions. The 
King's new advisers added to the incompetence 
of their predecessors a real dread of a decisive 
success for the Bourbon arms, which the past 
history of the country justified them in regarding as a sure 
prelude to another period of reaction likely to be fraught with 
serious consequences to themselves. Their action was there- 
fore hesitating and timorous, and Garibaldi, already strongly 
reinforced, was once more upon the move. Two flying 
columns, passing respectively through the central and southern 
districts of Sicily, w T ere to rendezvous at Catania, while the 
main advance was to proceed along the northern coast. The 
Neapolitans had now the choice of two alternatives. Either 
they could confine themselves to the defensive and refuse the 
passage of the Straits, or they could concentrate a vigorous 
counter-attack on one portion of the force which Garibaldi 
had somewhat imprudently dispersed. They did neither, and 
Colonel Bosco was despatched by General Clary from Messina 
to assist the garrison at Milazzo, a strong fortress perched 


upon a rocky peninsula connected by a narrow isthmus with 
the mainland. Here a desperate hand-to-hand engagement 
took place among the vineyards, sunken lanes, 
olive-groves and cactus hedges of the plain 
which lay south of the town, as the result of 
which the Neapolitans were driven behind their walls and 
within a few days actually surrendered the impregnable castle 
rather than endure the hardships of a blockade. 

The garrison of Messina now alone held out, and they 
might be disregarded. Garibaldi advanced to Charybdis 
sands, and there awaited his opportunity to pass 
th h e e s P tSf. e f tne Straits. While he yet waited two letters 
reached him from Victor Emmanuel, the one an 
official communication, for European consumption, forbidding 
him to proceed further, the other a private notification that he 
was to disregard the first. It is not surprising that such duplicity 
should have misled others, and when Napoleon proposed to the 
English government that the joint fleets of the two Powers 
should prevent the passage of the Straits, Lord John Russell, 
a sincere friend of Italy, was preparing to sign the treaty 
which he believed to be in accordance with Cavour's wishes. 
Just in time a private interview with a Neapolitan refugee, 
Sir James Lacaita, who had been naturalised in England, 
revealed the true state of Cavour's mind, Napoleon's advances 
were politely repelled, and the conquerors of Sicily were free to 
deal unhindered with the Neapolitan troops who lined the op- 
posite shore. The enemy's attention was drawn to the western 
end of the Straits by increased activity in that direction, and, 
on August 18, at nightfall, with the main body of his volunteers, 
Garibaldi himself put out from Taormina in two steamers, and 
landed next morning on the south-eastern coast of Calabria. 
The general concentration of the Neapolitan fleet and army 
in his direction permitted the rest of his troops to cross in open 
boats at the other end of the Straits, and Garibaldi moved to 
meet them, taking Reggio by assault on his way. The two 
forces joined hands across the high ground dominating the 
coast-line occupied by the Neapolitans. Thus enclosed, the 
defenders of the Straits laid down their arms at Villa San 

The remainder of the advance on Naples was one triumphal 
progress. Whole districts rose to welcome the invader. At 
Soveria and at Padula, large bodies of regular troops were 
overtaken in their retreat, and laid down their arms. The 


strong mountain ridge at Sorrento, from which the plain 
round Naples might have been covered against attack, was 
abandoned owing to the false rumours as to 
Garibaldi's strength which had been industriously 
circulated. On September 6, Francis II sailed 
from Naples for Gaeta, and on the next day Garibaldi, who was 
now far in advance of his troops, entered the city by train and 
almost unattended, before the Royal forces had abandoned 
the citadel of St. Elmo and the other fortifications. 

Meanwhile, Cavour had adapted himself to the new situation. 
He had long since made up his mind to send troops into Umbria 
and to anticipate Garibaldi on the Neapolitan 
frontier. He now persuaded Napoleon that the 
Catholic volunteers, under the command of 
Lamoriciere, who had gathered from all parts of Europe to 
defend the Pope, were little short of a standing challenge to 
the revolutionists, and that he could not undertake to restrain 
national feeling any longer. He promised that the proposed 
expedition should leave Rome itself untouched. " Go, if you 
wish," said the Emperor, " but be quick about it." No time 
was lost. The Pope was requested to disband his volunteers, 
and refused. The Piedmontese army, under General Fanti, 
thereupon entered his territory in two columns. Cialdini, 
in command of the one, following the east coast, overthrew 
Lamoriciere at Castelfidardo and forced him to surrender in 
Ancona. Delia Rocca, moving through Umbria at the head 
of the other, stormed Perugia and Spoleto, and penetrated to 
the vicinity of Rome. Pius meditated flight, and, had he 
done so of his own free-will, none would have been better 
pleased than Napoleon, who could have then withdrawn the 
garrison which had already caused him so much embarrass- 

But Garibaldi, with his fine scorn of consequence, counted 
all that he had done as done in vain if his career was to be 
stayed before the flag of United Italy had been planted upon 
the walls of Rome. With fierce anger he demanded the 
dismissal of Cavour, " the man who had sold Nice," and the 
abandonment of all compromise, while he persevered in his 
resistance to the clearly expressed wish of the Neapolitans for 
that annexation to Piedmont which would, as he foresaw, 
finally put a limit to his further advance. But already, and 
for other reasons, any forward movement had become im- 
possible. Behind the Volturno, with a strongly fortified 


advanced post in Capua on the southern bank of the river the 
Neapolitan armies, with greatly improved morale and in superior 
numbers, stood at bay under General Ritucci. 
Voiturnol the Face to face with this formidable resistance Gari- 
baldi could hope to do little more than stand on 
the defensive and prevent the recapture of Naples. On the 
first day of October he was assailed in his positions both by a 
direct attack from the gates of Capua and by a wide turning 
movement from the north-east. Never was Garibaldi's tactical 
skill displayed to better advantage, both in his choice of 
defensive positions and in the use which he made of his 
reserve. Yet it was only want of information and the 
complete lack of co-operation on the other side which saved 
him from defeat. The military situation had now convinced 
Garibaldi that no purpose could be served by resisting any 
longer the demand for annexation. Plebiscites were taken 
both in Sicily and on the mainland, and resulted in over- 
whelming majorities for union under Victor Emmanuel. 

Cavour could proceed to play his trump card. The Pied- 
montese army moved forward, and at the head of the army went 
Victor Emmanuel in person. The Neapolitans 
vtetOTEm- fell back when the Royal troops began to menace 
GaSbai(U nd their flank, and the way was clear for the historic 
meeting at Teano. With tolerable cordiality the 
two leaders shook hands. It was Garibaldi's surrender. His 
volunteers were now sent to the rear while the Piedmontese 
regulars routed the Neapolitans on the Garigliano, and laid siege 
to Gaeta, the last refuge of Francis II, which finally surrendered 
after a valiant defence in February, 1861. Before the town 
fell Garibaldi had taken bitter offence at finding himself and his 
troops thrust aside, a result to which his own extreme demands 
almost as much as the mean jealousy of the Piedmontese 
military faction had contributed. After entering Naples in the 
same carriage with the King, he declined all honours or gifts, 
and sailed for Caprera, with no more to show for the conquest 
of two kingdoms than a pocketful of money and a bag of seed 
for his island farm. 

On February 18, 1861, there met at Turin in the First 

Parliament of United Italy representatives from Piedmont, 

Lombardy, Modena, Parma, Tuscany, Romagna, 

favour?* Umbria, the Marches, Naples, and Sicily. For 

Venice the nation waited till 1866, and for Rome 

till 1870, nor was either won without heavy sacrifices. And in 


the meantime men had realised that the task of Italy's 
redemption was but half accomplished by the glorious deeds 
of 1859 and 1860, and that it would need years of strife, dis- 
illusionment and patience before the full harvest of that 
heroic seedtime could be gathered in. And at this moment 
Fortune suddenly withdrew the most indispensable of all the 
gifts with which she had endowed awakened Italy. On 
June 5, 1861, leaving one great work accomplished, and another 
and a greater to be wrought out by feebler hands, Cavour, the 
master-builder, died. 



THE humiliation of Prussia before Austria at Olmiitz had only 
been possible because some of the strongest elements in the 
national life had been sturdily opposed to the 
plans for German unity under Prussian leadership 
into which Radowitz had succeeded in leading 
Frederick William. Indeed, to some of these elements the 
national disgrace wore at first something like the appearance 
of a political triumph. Prominent among the opponents of 
the Radowitz policy had been the party of Junkers, or land- 
owning nobility and gentry, and their attitude had been 
mainly determined by their hostility to Constitutional schemes 
which menaced their own local influence, and tended to put 
political power in the hands of the commercial and professional 
middle classes. They stood for authority against popular 
claims, for religion against free thought, and for the old ways 
against innovation ; in fact, they were a typically conservative 
party. They were generally described, from the name of 
their organ, as the Kreuzzeitung faction. Their satisfaction 
at the issue of the recent crisis was not, however, solely a 
matter of class prejudice. There burnt in most of them a 
spirit of Prussian " particularism," as strong as any similar 
feeling that could be found at the lesser courts. This spirit had 
been expressed by Bismarck before the Assembly in energetic 
language. " The Crown of Frankfort," he said, " will doubt- 
less be bright, but the gold to which it will owe its brightness 
can only be obtained by melting down the Prussian Crown. 
Prussians we are and Prussians we will remain." To one who 
called him the Prodigal Son of the German Fatherland, he 
hotly retorted, " My father's house is Prussia, and I have 
never left it." 

With this party Frederick William found himself in con- 
siderable sympathy. Their half medieval, half military 


conceptions of duty and authority appealed to him, and the 
March Days (p. 243) had given him a horror of democratic ideals 
sufficient to last his life -time. Respect for his word, 
indeed, determined him to maintain the Constitu- 
tion, but the Upper Chamber became practically a 
House of Lords through a reduction in the number of elected 
members. His minister, Manteuffel, though not at one with 
the views of the Kreuzzeitung, maintained himself in office 
largely by deference to Junker prejudices, and from him the 
landowners secured the restoration of certain rights of adminis- 
tering justice on their own estates, and of a reduced scale of 
payments in the matter of taxation. The police were every- 
where active, and vigorous measures were taken against pam- 
phlets, teaching, and even opinions of a progressive kind. 

These measures were not, however, successful in killing out 
resistance, indeed, they provoked the opposition of one who 
was in no sense an upholder of popular claims. 
This was the King's brother and heir, William, pj.j^ c s e f f the 
Prince of Prussia. Before everything else a Prussia? 
soldier, he had been disgusted by Prussia's tame 
surrender. A man of clear and practical if of somewhat 
prosaic commonsense, he had little sympathy with his brother's 
flights of romantic fancy. He had fretted at the follies of the 
March Days, but he distrusted the authors of Prussia's abase- 
ment, and he held that their policy was dividing the nation. He 
had faith in the ultimate union of Germany, but believed the 
day of its accomplishment to be far off. He saw in the Prussian 
army the appointed instrument for its consummation. 

Events were rapidly knitting together the ties of a life 
partnership which was to fulfil within his own days more than 
he either hoped or desired. The selection of 
Count Otto von Bismarck as Prussian repre- 
sentative in the Diet of Frankfort had been 
prompted by a desire to stand on good terms with Austria. No 
one seemed better qualified than one who had so fiercely 
denounced the aims of Radowitz. The experiences of the 
Diet were to prove a political education. Bismarck returned 
from Frankfort the determined enemy of Austria. The change 
was inevitable in a man who frankly acknowledged no other 
guiding-star but the particular interests of Prussia, when 
plunged in an atmosphere of jealousy and intrigue in which 
every State strove to get the better of every other and Austria 
of all, 


To the service of the end he sought, Bismarck brought a 
ruthless intelligence and a ruthless will. He sacrificed to no 
political theories or enthusiasms ; to the end of 
B?smarck. f ^is days he remained an arch-opportunist. He 
acknowledged no obstacles ; for him obstacles 
only existed to be surmounted or turned. He admitted 
very frankly that he was more alive to the weakness of man- 
kind than to their virtues, hence he seldom sought to persuade 
or to lead. He preferred to trade upon cupidity, to out- 
manoeuvre stupidity, to overbear weakness. His policy was 
ever to temporise till he was in a position to deal a stunning 
blow. The cynical and almost brutal frankness of his utter- 
ances was often made to serve as a cloak for plans yet un- 
revealed. And it is not too much to say that his immense 
success left a fatal impress upon the traditions of European 
diplomacy. Cavour, perhaps, told as many lies, but he never 
erected unscrupulousness into a creed. Yet Bismarck was a 
great and unselfish patriot. He was also a sincerely religious 
man, even if the God he worshipped was conceived too 
exclusively as the tutelary deity of Prussia. He created 
modern Germany, and it may perhaps be doubted whether 
his country's ills would have yielded to remedies less heroic 
than his. And in a short period of suffering and war he 
consummated what fifty years of striving had been powerless I 
to effect, and removed a state of affairs which was a standing | 
menace to European peace. Such men must answer before a ' 
tribunal other than that of history, but history will fearlessly 
condemn their lesser imitators. 

The story has often been told how Bismarck first asserted 
the dignity of Prussia in the Diet by arrogating to himself the 
right to smoke at the meetings, till then the 
unwritten privilege of the Austrian representative 
alone, and with humorous results. For his self- 
assertion drove even luckless non-smokers from the smaller 
States into painful if patriotic struggles to acquire the 
unfamiliar habit. There were, however, more serious occasions 
for asserting Prussian independence. From the wreck of her 
German policy at Olmiitz Prussia had preserved her Zollverein, 
and Austria now sought to destroy the last fragment of her 
rival's influence by securing her own inclusion in the union. 
Through Bismarck's efforts the suggestion was repelled, and 
the question postponed for six years (1852). The same newly- 
found independence governed Prussia's refusal to make 


herself the instrument of Austrian policy in the Crimean War 
(p. 271), a decision which, however, diminished for the moment 
her influence in the counsels of Europe and almost brought 
about her exclusion from the Congress of Paris (1856). 

A year later Berlin was acclaiming a " New Era." It had 
long been suspected that Frederick William's aberrations 
betokened constitutional unsoundness of mind, 

-, . -,ofi-r i ij_- n 11 mi The' New Era. 

and in 1857 his faculties finally gave way. Ine 
Prince of Prussia was called upon to act as deputy and subse- 
quently as Regent, and in 1861 he became King at the age of 
sixty-three by his brother's death. He did not wait for that 
event to dismiss the Manteuffel ministry. They were replaced 
by advisers of moderate progressive tendencies, repression 
came to an end, and some of the most unfair measures of the 
late regime were rescinded. Scarcely had this change been 
effected when the national uprising of 1859 broke out in Italy. 
Its effect in Germany was twofold. There was a great revival of 
the unionist ideas of 1848, which found little favour in Prussian 
official circles, for Radowitz, if he had accomplished nothing 
else, had succeeded in spreading a conviction that union, if it 
came at all must be effected under Prussian leadership. More 
important was the determination of the attitude to be adopted 
towards the French intervention. Prussia had no concern in 
the quarrel, and little sympathy for Austria, but the temptation 
to recover her own influence by offering mediation enforced by an 
advance upon the Rhine frontier proved irresistible. The army 
was mobilised, and became an important factor in the calcula- 
tions which led Napoleon to the armistice of Villafranca (p. 296). 
The mobilisation was to have an indirect but still more 
important result. It convinced the soldier King of the 
inadequacy and defective organisation of the 
Prussian army. The system established by Reorganisation 

o i 101^ / io\ j -T.L of the Prussian 

Scharnhorst, in 1814 (p. 13), made military Army, 
service a universal obligation, three years being 
required with the colours, two in the reserve and fourteen in 
the Landwehr, or militia, whose members remained liable for 
active service during their first seven years. The system had 
been dislocated by the growth of population. The number of 
regiments was not sufficient to receive the annual supply of 
young men due for training, with the result that the term of 
service with the colours had been reduced to two years. But 
even this arrangement had failed to meet increasing numbers, 
and as many as 25,000 young men annually were escaping 


training altogether by 1860. Thus, at a crisis the nation would 
be deprived of the services of this excellent material and forced 
to depend too much upon the somewhat rusty efficiency of 
the Landwehr. William accordingly appointed General von 
Roon Minister of War, and set himself to remedy existing 
defects. By the plan now suggested the army was increased by 
thirty -nine infantry and ten cavalry regiments. It was thus 
possible to restore the obligation to three years' service with the 
colours, and, owing to the increase in numbers, to relieve the 
Landwehr of liability to active service after the first two years. 
The proposal produced an explosion of indignation in the 
Prussian Parliament, whose members, influenced by the recru- 
descence of the ideas of 1848, saw in the new law a 
Time" 0nfhct detestable alliance between militarism and Prussian 
particularism. But the ministry, anxious not to 
throw the King into the arms of the opposite party, induced a 
majority to make a sufficient grant for the new regiments, 
provisionally and for one year, on the understanding that the 
alterations in the period of service were reserved for further 
discussion. The King and Roon proceeded to put the entire 
scheme into operation. Thus began the " Conflict Time." 
The Parliament which met in January, 1862, not unnaturally 
showed a determination not to sanction the new conditions of 
service, and a dissolution took place followed by the resignation 
of the ministry. Their Conservative successors were no more 
fortunate. The elections in May produced an overwhelming 
majority opposed to the recent changes, and a vote was carried 
to remove from the estimates the grant which they involved. 
The ministers thereupon resigned. 

To English readers it may seem as though the King had 
no choice but to abandon his plans or to suppress the Con- 
stitution. There were, in fact, two other alterna- 
Bi inted Ck ap tives. William was now sixty-four years of age. 
Minister. He had never expected to reign, and did not value 

his position as King, while he attached the first 
importance to army reform. His son, the Crown Prince 
Frederick, had married the Princess Royal of England, and 
was disposed both by his own temperament and by his wife's 
influence to Constitutional courses. It was not difficult therefore 
for the King to abdicate. There was yet another course open. 
In the Prussian Constitution the ministry were appointed by 
the Crown, they were not members of Parliament, and were 
neither in theory nor in practice dependent on a parliamentary 


majority. If a minister could be found to defy nation and 
Parliament alike the struggle might be continued, and Roon 
had for some time been pressing the King to send for Bismarck. 
By the end of September the future Chancellor received the 
Royal summons, and found William sitting before a table with 
his Act of Abdication spread out and newly signed before him. 
Before the interview ended the paper had been torn in half, 
and the great partnership had begun. 

The new minister's first attempt at conciliation was fore- 
doomed to failure, indeed, his vigorous and epigrammatic 
language rubbed salt into smarting wounds. It 
was expected, and indeed, almost hoped, that he {g n j^ i J 1 1 J d 
would be forced to do violence to the Constitution, parliament. 
Bismarck had no intention of doing anything of 
the kind. He was going to show the members that a strict 
insistence upon the letter of a Constitution is a double-edged 
weapon. The Lower House amended his Budget as they had 
the right to do. The Upper House had no power to propose 
amendments, but had the right of rejecting them. This right 
it proceeded to exercise. The law required the government to 
go on collecting taxes which had once been imposed till they 
should be abolished. The taxes had not been abolished, all 
that had happened was that the Budget, which authorised the 
government to spend them, had not been passed. The situation 
was ridiculous, and Bismarck declined to recognise it. The 
money was spent, and there was no way in which the Lower 
House could prevent it. No dissolution took place, for, as 
Bismarck said to the members, " we desire to give the nation 
the chance of becoming thoroughly acquainted with you." 
From this moment he treated them like children, hectoring and 
bantering them by turns. None the less, the tension was 
serious, for public opinion supported the opposition, the Crown 
Prince had, with questionable loyalty, openly dissociated 
himself from the acts of the government in a speech at Dantzig, 
and even the King had wavered and needed to be reminded 
that " Charles I was quite a respectable historical figure." 

Nevertheless, the attitude of the Crown Prince was in- 
directly of service to Bismarck. It was generally felt that the 
King could not live long, that his death would witness a reversal 
of policy, and that in the meantime it was not worth while 
to push matters to extremities. 

Meanwhile, the increased military strength of Prussia was 
having its effect, In 1862, on the occasion of a proposed 


commercial treaty between the Zollverein and France, Austria 
again pressed for her own inclusion. The request was refused, 
and the Austrian protests sharply answered by the recognition 
of the Kingdom of Italy. An old foe, the Elector of Hesse- 
Cassel, was made to feel Prussia's hand. He had required of 
his subjects an oath to his new Constitution of 1860. Prussia 
protested, and her protest being disregarded, mobilised two 
army corps. The Diet was thereby emboldened to insist on 
the abolition of the Hessian Constitution altogether in favour 
of its earlier and more popular predecessor. 

In this instance Prussia had taken the popular side, but the 
episode was the exception. The rising in Poland (p. 284), which 
broke out in 1863, and the attitude of the Prussian 
Solfbetween 1 " Government filled high the measure of Bismarck's 
Prussfa and unpopularity. To the Emperor of the French 
the incident presented a clear case of despised 
national claims calling for the application of Napoleonic ideas ; 
and the opportunity was all the more attractive, because he 
could count upon the joint support of the Catholic and the 
democratic sections of opinion alike, both of whom he had 
succeeded in offending by his Italian policy. English 
sympathies were inevitably with the Poles, as was popular 
feeling in Germany, while Austria characteristically attempted 
to hedge. Russia was without a friend, and Bismarck was 
swift to mark the danger and the opportunity. An independent 
Poland would strive to reach the Baltic through Prussia's 
eastern provinces. On the other hand, the friendship of Russia 
would be invaluable when the day came to settle accounts with 
Austria. A convention was concluded with Russia whereby 
Prussian troops were stationed on the frontier, and either Power 
granted to the other the right of entry in pursuit of rebels 
(February, 1863). The announcement was received by Parlia- 
ment and the nation with violent anger, at which Bismarck could 
afford to mock. The results were substantial. France, whose 
influence was to be feared in the future, had been considerably 
weakened. She had lost the goodwill of Russia, and neither 
England, mindful of Savoy and Nice, nor Austria, still sore 
about Italy, had been willing to combine unreservedly with her. 
Austria, the immediate enemy, who had already disappointed 
Russia bitterly in 1854, had filled up her cup of offence. 

It was therefore with a light heart that Bismarck watched 
an attempt by Austria to turn Prussian unpopularity to 
account in Germany. Francis Joseph invited the German 


princes to meet at Frankfort to consider a reform of the 
Confederation. Bang William was persuaded to refuse to 
attend. There were only two other abstentions, but without 
Prussia nothing could be done, for the smaller States had no 
wish to commit themselves to any arrangement 
under which the influence of one of the two great Austria and 
Powers would not be counter-balanced by that of the Met. 
the other. Moreover Bismarck played adroitly 
upon sentiments which neither Austria nor the princes had 
intended to propitiate. Germany heard with incredulous amaze- 
ment the announcement that the reactionary minister refused to 
consider any reform of the Confederation which did not pro- 
vide for an assembly elected on a popular franchise. Events 
were to prove that he was in earnest. 

But at this juncture the recrudescence of the Schleswig- 
Holstein question swept all other issues out of the field. In 
1852 two difficulties seemed to have disappeared. 
The first was that of the succession ; for the Duke f t c 
of Oldenburg, the Duke of Augustenburg, and revived. 
other claimants had been induced to resign their 
pretensions. The second was that of the future relations 
between the duchies and the Crown of Denmark, Frederick VII 
having issued a proclamation promising independent assemblies 
to Schleswig, Holstein, and Lauenburg. The Powers accord- 
ingly met in conference at London, and on the strength of these 
understandings guaranteed the integrity of Denmark and the 
succession of Christian of Gliicksburg. But the popular party 
in the Danish Rigsrad never for one moment abandoned their 
determination to secure a uniform Constitution for the whole 
kingdom, and the Crimean War, by occupying the attention of 
the Powers, gave them their opportunity. A new Constitution 
was drafted in 1855, restricting the authority of the provincial 
assemblies in the duchies to matters of secondary concern, 
and denying to them the separate administration of their 
revenues. A vigorous protest by the German Diet secured a 
reversal of these arrangements so far as Holstein and Lauenburg 
were concerned. In the case of Schleswig, however, which lay 
outside the Confederation, Denmark was justified in disre- 
garding German feeling, and refused to entertain a suggestion 
from England that the duchy should be granted as a privilege 
the same powers of self-government which had been conceded 
as a right to Holstein (1862). 

The preoccupation of Europe with the Polish question 


presented the Danes with a new opportunity, and in 1863, by 

the " March Patent," Frederick VII declared the 
Denmark^defles London Treaty of 1852 no longer binding, and 
Treaty. announced that a Constitution would shortly be 

drafted incorporating Schleswig with Denmark, 
and establishing a form of self-government for Holstein. In 
spite of the threats of the German Diet the measure was pressed 
forward and was ready for signature when Frederick VII died 
in November. At this point the Constitutional issues were com- 
plicated by the re-opening of the succession question, for the 
young Duke of Augustenburg unexpectedly declared that he was 
not bound by his late father's resignation. Holstein at once 
rose in his favour, and all Germany rallied to his cause when 
Christian IX signed the obnoxious Constitution. The new King 
could scarcely have done otherwise, indeed he was told that 
his refusal would cost him his Crown if not his head. But his 
consent cost him also the allegiance of Schleswig, which threw 
in its lot with Holstein and the Augustenburg claimant. 

The wrath of the German people and of the German Diet, 
though great, did not promise to be very effective. With 

Schleswig the Diet had legally no concern, nor 
Joint inter ven- we re the forces at its disposal sufficient to deal 
aM Prussia. with the Danes apart from Austrian and Prussian 

help. And any assistance to the policy of the 
Diet these Powers were not in a position to render. They had 
been parties to the London Treaty of 1852, which the Diet had 
defied by recognising Augustenburg, and, even if they had been 
willing to disavow their obligations, they had to reckon with 
the other guarantors of the treaty. Bismarck, however, was 
determined to interfere. The excitement in Germany promised 
an advantage to any Power which should take the lead in the 
national quarrel, and afforded a justification for action, which 
Europe could scarcely ignore. The breach by Denmark 
of the Treaty of London would offer the excuse, and would 
cover the case of Schleswig as well as that of Holstein. 
Bismarck resolved to take up arms for the arrangement of 
1852, and to declare for self-governing duchies under the Crown 
of Christian IX. Such a solution would have the advantage 
of excluding Augustenburg, whose investiture as Duke would 
only have provided another vote in the Diet to be exploited by 
Austria. Once the Danes had been beaten a new situation 
would be in existence out of which Prussia might make her 
profit, without much to fear from the Powers, Russia 


busy in Poland, England alone was strongly in favour of 
Denmark, and Napoleon, irritated at her failure to go along 
with French policy in Polish affairs, was not likely to lend her 
his support. Austria Bismarck intended to have as his accom- 
plice. She could not, for the same reasons as Prussia, adopt 
the policy of the Diet, but she could not afford to allow Prussia 
alone to pose as the champion of German claims. In 1864 
the compact was concluded between the two Powers, the Diet 
refusing to go beyond an occupation of Holstein in the 
interests of Augustenburg. Denmark was summoned to with- 
draw the Constitution within forty-eight hours. 

Bismarck had taken care to avoid the possibility of a Danish 
submission. A vote of the Rigsrad was indispensable for the 
purpose, the existing Rigsm* ! had just been dis- Danish roverae8i 
solved, and the writs had been issued lor trie 
election of another. There was no time. Amid loud protests 
both in the Diet and in the Prussian Parliament at the selfish 
policy of the Allies, the invasion began. The Eider was crossed, 
the Danes were forced to retreat from their first line of defence 
at the Dannewerke, the entrenchments at Diippel were stormed 
by the Prussians under Prince Frederick Charles, the Danes 
retreated into the island of Alsen, and Jutland lay open to the 
invader. The result in Prussia was electrical. In a few weeks 
her detested army had become what it has never ceased to be 
from, that moment, the dearest object of national pride. 

At this juncture the invading Powers decided to declare 
the Treaty of London non-existent. Napoleon had given it 
up, Russia was in no position to interfere, England 
was unlikely to act alone, and the support of 
Germany at large was to be had by denouncing it. 
Austria was most unwilling, but out of deference to German 
opinion was forced to go as far as her ally. But if Europe 
would not fight it was ready to try the effects of another 
Congress. A truce was secured, and a meeting of diplomatists 
took place in London. But the uncompromising obstinacy of 
Denmark doomed all the efforts of her friends to failure. 
She flatly declined to be bound by the solution of 1852. 
It was necessary, therefore, to put forward new proposals. 
Bismarck, with an eye to German opinion, insincerely 
suggested the independence of the duchies under Augusten- 
burg, a solution which was, as he anticipated, rejected. 
The English proposal for a division of Schleswig, the 
northern part to be incorporated with Denmark, broke down 


in face of the refusal of the Danes to accept any frontier 
save that suggested by themselves. The Conference broke up 
in despair, and left Denmark to her fate, a fate to which it 
must be admitted that the indiscreet sympathy of Palmerston, 
entirely counter-balanced at home by the pro-German 
tendencies of the English Court, had contributed to expose her. 
The war began afresh, Alsen was taken, and the Danes 
abandoned hope on the news that Palmerston's policy had 

been definitely disapproved by Crown, Commons, 

and ministry alike. By the Treaty of Vienna, 
Austria and the three duchies were surrendered to Austria and 

Prussia to dispose of at their discretion (October, 
1864). The obvious solution of the problem presented to 
them was the recognition of Augustenburg as Duke. But 
both Powers were anxious to turn their success to their own 
profit. Bismarck wanted the duchies for Prussia and Austria 
was willing to let him have them at the price of compensation 
in Silesia. This Prussia refused, and Austria, anxious to be rid 
of a perplexing responsibility, now pressed the Augustenburg 
claim. Bismarck professed to concur, on condition that the 
duchies should enter the Zollverein and should put their post 
office as well as their army and navy under Prussian control, 
urging that they could not defend themselves against Denmark, 
nor could Prussia, upon whom the duty of protection must fall, 
undertake to perform it without proper facilities. Such 
vassalage the Duke declined, and agitation on his behalf began 
in the duchies encouraged by Austria. 

By this time Bismarck had recognised that the situation 
would sooner or later provide him with an excuse for the war 

with Austria which he had always contemplated 
Bismarck^de- as the ultimate solution of the German question. 
Stria!* 111 He was not, however, ready. German sentiment 

was running strongly in favour of Austria as the 
champion of Augustenburg, and Prussia could not afford to 
quarrel till she had made sure of the alliance of Italy and the 
neutrality of France. By the Convention of Gastein it was 
agreed for the time being to divide responsibility, Prussia 
undertaking the administration of Schleswig, and Austria that 
of Holstein. Lauenburg was to be annexed by Prussia, and 
Austria was to receive an equivalent in money (August, 1865). 
Thus the uneasy partnership was maintained for nearly another 
year while Bismarck watched the diplomatic omens. 

Much the most important secret which the future 


enshrouded was the probable attitude of France. Western 
Germany had been too long a sphere of French influence or 
the training ground of French armies to permit France to be 
indifferent to the erection of a strong military power beyond 
her frontier. But the Emperor might be bought, as Cavour 
had proved, though his price for supporting Prussian schemes 
would inevitably be a high one; and Bismarck would have 
been prepared to pay it if absolutely necessary. Circumstances 
were, however, inclining him to believe that the same influences 
which had decreed Napoleon's impotence in the Polish question 
would do the like in the impending duel in Germany. For the 
second drama in the Napoleonic trilogy was approaching its 
denouement the unrelieved tragedy of the Mexican adventure. 

Long since, amid the dreams of the prisoner of Ham, there 
had floated the vision of a revived influence for the Latin 
races in the New World, which should reverse the 
policy of Canning and cry halt to the ambitions 
of the United States. Somewhere and somehow 
under French protection, new fields should be opened to the 
commerce of Southern Europe, and the Roman Church should 
recover its dignity and its power. And now, in 1860, the hour 
seemed to have struck in Mexico. The Clericals under Miramon, 
and the popular party under the Indian Juarez, were in the 
throes of civil strife, and the latter was committed to the 
confiscation of ecclesiastical property and to other measures 
directed against the Church. The outbreak of the American 
Civil War between North and South seemed likely to paralyse 
the action of the United States, even if it did not result in the 
victory of the Confederates, with whom Napoleon was in active 
sympathy. Mexican envoys in Paris told fabulous tales of the 
devotion of the country to the old ideals, and of the inexhaus- 
tible riches of its mines. It seemed the golden opportunity for 
the Second Empire to take its place as a world-Power ; to 
silence for ever the lesser grievances of the Pope and of the 
Catholic party ; to salve the wounded pride of Austria ; to 
conciliate the powers that ruled the money market. It was 
the gambler's illusion when he doubles his stakes to recover 
his losses. Nor was reasonable ground for interference 
difficult to find. The government of Juarez, after illegally 
seizing treasure belonging to British subjects, had finally, in 1859, 
decided to suspend payment of interest upon foreign debts. 

Accordingly, in 1861, England, France, and Spain agreed, 
by a treaty signed at London, to co-operate in asserting the 


claims of the creditors, while formally renouncing any schemes 
of conquest or of internal intervention. The combined fleets 
appeared off Vera Cruz, and the Convention of 
vention lter Soledad was concluded, by which Juarez was re- 
cognised and negotiations were set on foot. At this 
moment the Mexican Almonte arrived from Paris, asserting 
that it was Napoleon's intention to substitute monarchical 
government for the republic, and began to act independently 
of the other allies. Upon this England and Spain withdrew. 

The first operations of the French army, barely 6000 
strong, should have warned Napoleon of the difficulties of his 
task. The Imperial troops sustained their first 
defeat in an attack on Puebla, with losses so 
heavy as to constitute a serious disaster. But the 
Emperor refused to surrender his illusions. General Forey, 
with reinforcements of 23,000 men, succeeded in taking Puebla 
and the city of Mexico. An assembly of Mexican dignitaries 
was thereupon called together, and proceeded at Napoleon's 
suggestion to offer the Crown to Maximilian, brother of Francis 
Joseph (p. 291 ) , a prince whose fine presence, kind heart, energetic 
character and wide views gave some promise of success in a 
difficult part. Maximilian hesitated. But his wife's per- 
suasions, coupled with liberal guarantees of military and 
financial support from Napoleon, carried the day, and in May, 
1864, he landed in Mexico. He was swiftly undeceived. 
North and south were in rebellion, funds were scarcely to be 
procured, even the Clericals turned against him when he 
discovered their narrowness and incompetence, and declined 
to execute the details of their policy ; promising instead to 
guarantee religious liberty and the freedom of the Press, and 
refusing to restore the Church lands. 

Then came the crushing blow. The American Civil War 
was over, and the victory at Appomattox had given a decisive 
advantage to the Federals. In December, 1865, 
Congress declined to recognise Maximilian and 
formally required France to evacuate Mexico 
in the name of the Monroe Doctrine (p. 75). Napoleon dared 
not refuse. He had sacrificed money, men and reputation for 
a shadow. 

His gallant victim decided to stand his ground, influenced 
as much by his own sense of honour as by the evil counsel 
of Marshal Bazaine. The Empress Charlotte returned to 
Europe to seek help. Vainly she appealed to Napoleon, to 


Austria, to her father Leopold of Belgium, and when her last 
hope failed her, and Pius refused to use his influence with 
the Mexican Church, her mind utterly gave way. 
She was at least spared the bitterness of the final 
tragedy. Maximilian was driven into Queretaro, 
besieged, betrayed, and led out to be shot, in retribution for a 
sentence which he had once passed upon two officers of the 
other party (1867). 

The situation in Mexico was nearing its crisis when 
Bismarck went to meet Napoleon at Biarritz with every hope 
of finding him amenable. The prospect of strife 
between the German Powers promised indeed a 
golden opportunity for French aggression, while 
motives of self-preservation counselled interference to main- 
tain the balance against Prussia. But Napoleon was in no 
position to act decisively. What actually passed is not 
known, but Bismarck seems to have obtained the Emperor's 
sanction to his purchasing an alliance with Italy by the 
promise of Venetia, as well as a guarantee of French neutrality. 
We may be certain that Bismarck on his part gave no definite 
assurance as to compensation for Napoleon, but it is probable 
that he indicated in general terms that there would be no 
difficulty in obliging France. 

He was now in a position to make advances to Italy. 
Since the death of Cavour the Tuscan Ricasoli had been 
Premier, and of the two objects of Italian am- 
bition had resolutely subordinated the acquisition 
of Venetia to that of Rome. There were two 
ways in which Rome might be won : either by agreement with 
Napoleon for the withdrawal of the French garrison, or by the 
Pope's consent to Cavour 's policy of a " Free Church in a Free 
State," which implied an abandonment of the Temporal 
Power by the Vatican in return for a surrender of all claims by 
the State to regulate the affairs of the Church. Either policy 
demanded cautious action, and to caution the King himself was 
little disposed, preferring to postpone the Roman question, and 
to take vigorous action for the acquisition of Venetia. The 
hostility of Rattazzi's party to the Premier gave him a following, 
and the Court combined with the opposition to foster a popular 
desire for war by encouraging Garibaldi to hope that some 
new enterprise would be entrusted to him. These manoeuvres 
brought about the resignation of Ricasoli and the accession 
of Rattazzi to power, but Garibaldi, whom he had used as a 



tool, outran the intentions of the ministry, and was already 
on the borders of the Tyrol, when the authorities turned him 
back. It was, however, easier to incite Garibaldi than to 
restrain him. He appeared in Palermo, where the officials, 
ignorant how far the King was implicated in his acts, did not 
venture to interfere, and with " Rome or death " as his 
watchword, he succeeded in passing the Straits, followed by 
4000 volunteers of the worst quality. The country remained 
indifferent, and he was finally compelled to surrender at 
Aspromonte to a regular force under Cialdini, himself sustaining 
a severe wound in the foot (August, 1862). All parties felt 
that the Roman question was not to be settled in this way, and 
two years later, in 1864, Napoleon agreed to withdraw the 
garrison from Rome on the understanding that the Minghetti 
ministry would not attempt to occupy it, and would give 
evidence of their good faith by adopting Florence as the 
capital. This so-called September Convention, by closing the 
Roman question, turned men's thoughts to Venetia. 

In 1865 La Marmora, then Premier, had made efforts to buy 
the province from Austria, and in the following year began to 

listen, not without suspicion, to the overtures of 
and a prSss f ia taly Bismarck. By April, 1866, a secret alliance had 

been concluded on condition that Prussia went 
to war in three months. 

The suspicions of Austria were gradually aroused, and she 
determined to counteract the Prussian understanding with 

Italy by currying favour with the German princes. 
Prussia fn nd Accordingly, while Manteuffel, who represented 
schieswig- Prussia in Schleswig, repressed every symptom of 

agitation in favour of Frederick of Augustenburg, 
the utmost freedom was given in Holstein to the manifestation of 
such sympathies . The movement culminated in a huge meetin g 
at Altona, in which Prussia was assailed in unmeasured terms. 
Bismarck remonstrated, not without menace, and Austriareplied 
that her administration of Holstein was no concern of Prussia's. 
In view of her rival's preparation she announced her intention 
of calling upon the Diet to mobilise the Federal forces. 

Bismarck had not been unprepared for the Austrian appeal 
to Germany, and he had his own counter-appeal ready. He laid 

before the Diet a plan for the reform of the Con- 
Sififiei? and federation, which was to comprise, among other 

provisions, the exclusion of Austria and the 
establishment of an Assembly elected by universal suffrage. 


At this moment Napoleon changed his mind. He thought 
he saw an opportunity of realising his own aims without the 
dangerous expedient of befriending Prussia. He 
resolved at one and the same time to help Italy t 
and to equalise the combatants for his own pur- 
poses. He accordingly induced Austria to offer Venetia to 
Italy in return for Italian neutrality. The offer was most 
tempting, but La Marmora's sense of honour forbade him 
to accept it, and Italy stood by her engagements. The 
Emperor now fell back upon his favourite suggestion of a 
Congress. This time Austria wrecked the proposal by 
insisting on the inclusion of the Pope and upon a definite 
assurance that no cessions of territory were to be discussed. 
Napoleon thereupon retired into watchful neutrality. 

Austria now made a deliberate bid for the support of the 
Confederation. She declared her intention to submit the 
destinies of Schleswig-Holstein to the decision of 
the Diet, an open breach of the Convention of Breach of the 
Gastein, to which Prussia replied that she could GasS. 01 
recognise no such solution, unless the Diet had pre- 
viously been reformed on the popular lines which she had herself 
suggested. Her scheme was accordingly laid before the Federal 
representatives. It was rejected, and the decision was followed 
by the acceptance of an Austrian proposal for Federal execution 
against Prussia. The die was now cast. Prussia solemnly with- 
drew from the Confederation, and proceeded to occupy Holstein, 
on the plea that, the Convention of Gastein having been broken, 
the joint responsibility for the duchies came again into force. 

Technically, Austria was the aggressor by her repudiation 
of the Gastein Convention, but Bismarck was running a 
tremendous risk. He could not have doubted 
for a moment that if the struggle were protracted the wa? 8 f 
Napoleon would attempt to make his own game, 
and in the meantime Austria had drawn Germany to her side. 
He had, however, his reasons for confidence. He believed 
that the Prussian army, organised, armed, and trained by Roori 
and Moltke as no army had hitherto been organised and 
trained, was invincible ; and he knew that in case of victory he 
held in his proposals for universal suffrage a weapon that would 
be more than a match for any unanimity among the princes 
and governments. Nor were the governments in cordial 
agreement with Austria. Federal reform, in whatever shape 
it was presented, was just what in the interests of particularism 


they wished to avoid. Accordingly, their armies were con- 
centrated in the south to defend their own territories, and made 
no effort to co -opera'te with the offensive campaign planned 
by the Austrian Field-Marshal Benedek. Prussia was there- 
fore enabled to employ a small force against them which, under 
Falkenstein, won the first success of the war at Langensalza, 
where the Hanoverians were crushed in an attempt to move 
southwards to join the Federal troops. 

Bohemia bulges out from the frontier of Austro-Hungary 
into the heart of Germany. To the south-west where it 

bordered upon Bavaria, no danger was to be 
Bohe P mia n in apprehended, but the kingdom of Saxony to the 

north-west was already occupied by one Prussian 
army under Prince Frederick Charles, and on the north-east, 
in the Prussian province of Silesia, the Crown Prince com- 
manded another. Benedek's plan was to stop the latter 
force from entering Bohemia in the Nachod passes, and 
meantime to overwhelm Frederick Charles shortly after his 
passage of the frontier. He would then be free to hold out a 
hand to the Bavarians. The scheme was fraught with peril. 
The two Prussian armies had orders from Moltke to concentrate 
at Gitschin, and any failure to close the passes would put the 
Crown Prince in a position to strike at Benedek's flank. 

The Prussian strategy was the sounder, but the astonishing 
rapidity of the catastrophe was in the main due to superiority 

of tactics and armament. Fighting in loose 
K6n?ggratz. formations and armed with a new breech-loading 

rifle, known as the " needle-gun," the army of 
Frederick Charles drove back the Austrians in a series of 
engagements round Munchengratz. Meanwhile the Crown 
Prince forced the passes, and his success compelled Benedek 
to take up a new and less advanced position at Konig- 
gratz. Here he was attacked in front by Frederick Charles, 
and having imprudently thrown into the fight the force 
which had been detailed to watch for the Crown Prince, was 
overwhelmed by the belated arrival of the latter, who drove in 
and crushed the whole of the Austrian right flank (July 3, 1866). 
The success was decisive. The other operations of the war 
were merely subsidiary. In Italy La Marmora crossed the 

Mincio, but sustained a defeat at Custozza, the 
Ve a nltfa 4uire3 scene of Charles Albert's earlier repulse (p. 233), 

and was forced to withdraw from Venetia, till the 
retirement of the Austrians, owing to their reverses in the north, 


permitted a second advance. Thus Venetia was finally won for 
Italy, but the Powers prevented the annexation of the Trentino, 
or Southern Tyrol. This last disappointment, together with 
the loss of military prestige at Custozza and a naval defeat 
sustained by Admiral Persano off Lissa, left very bitter 
feelings in Italy. Baden, Wurtemberg, and Bavaria remained 
to be disposed of, but, even before their submission was made, 
the issue had been practically decided by negotiation. 

Napoleon had not calculated upon the efficiency of the 
weapon which the King and Roon had forged. Greatly 
disturbed at the result of his neutrality, he 
accepted Austria's invitation to interpose, and 
Bismarck saw clearly that the Emperor's change Prague 
of front must entail two important consequences. 
Prussia would be obliged, at any rate for the time being, to 
limit her ambitions in Germany, and to treat Austria with the 
utmost forbearance. Germany could not be united under 
Prussian leadership till accounts had been settled with 
Napoleon, and in view of an ultimate rupture with France 
Austria must be weaned from harbouring thoughts of vengeance. 
Bismarck was therefore willing to accede to the demand of 
the French Emperor that no surrender of Austrian territory 
should be required, on the understanding that Prussia should 
be free to consolidate her scattered dominions by the annexa- 
tion of Hanover, Hesse-Cassel, and Nassau, and to establish a 
new Confederation embracing the North German States only. 
He had more difficulty with his own King. William desired to 
mutilate Austria, and to enter Vienna in triumph, while he was 
most unwilling to destroy the menaced princely dynasties. 
But the Crown Prince supported Bismarck, and by the end 
of July the preliminary treaty of Nikolsburg had been signed, 
which was converted in August into a permanent peace at 
Prague (1866). 

The successes of the Prussian arms were no less effective 
in the domestic concerns of Prussia and Germany. Bismarck 
had no difficulty in obtaining from the Prussian 
Parliament an Act of Indemnity for the sums un- SederTtTon 1 ) 
constitutionally spent upon the army. Schleswig, 
Holstein, Hanover, Hesse-Cassel, Nassau, and Frankfort were 
annexed to Prussia. The remaining States north of the Main 
were required to associate themselves with Prussia and her 
dependent provinces in a North German Confederation, from 
which Austria and the Southern States were excluded. The 


federal institutions were to consist of a Reichstag elected by 
universal suffrage, and a Bundesrath, or Federal Council, con- 
sisting of the representatives of the various governments. So 
far the scheme wore the appearance of an attempt to compro- 
mise between " particularism " and the popular ideas of 1848. 
But the executive was alien to either. The King of Prussia 
became President, and appointed all officials, including the 
Federal Chancellor, who was practically sole minister. And 
while each State was left free to manage its own domestic affairs, 
foreign policy and national defence were placed under the control 
of the central executive, and the State armies were thenceforward 
armed and organised on the Prussian model under Prussian 
direction. Here, at last was no loose federation, but a strong 
federal State . And it had come to pass as Bismarck hadpredicted , 
" not by speeches and majority votes, but by blood and iron." 
The battle of Koniggratz decided the destiny of Austria no 
less than that of Germany, for by giving the death-blow to her 

purely German ambitions it enabled her to turn 
Bach riaunder ner undistracted attention to the task of setting 

her own polyglot house in order. The one 
permanent effect of the movement of 1848 within the Austrian 
dominions had been the destruction of every kind of feudal 
authority. Schwarzenberg had found the ground clear for the 
establishment of an autocratic military monarchy, which dis- 
regarded national distinctions, and governed through officials 
(1851). By a Concordat arrived at in 1855 the Church, in 
return for extensive privileges, took sides with the government. 
Bach, Minister of the Interior, controlled the Empire for ten 
years with the combined aid of army, police, and clergy 
(1849-1859), while Buol ruined Austrian influence in Europe, 
and the finances went from bad to worse. 

The Italian war revealed the inherent weakness of the 
whole system. Francis Joseph, with his clear good sense, 

ascribed the ruined credit of the Empire and the 
experiment Ust disloyalty of her peoples to the true causes. Bach 

was dismissed, and, by the March Patent of 1860, 
thirty-eight distinguished men from different parts of the 
Emperor's dominions were summoned to offer their counsel 
on the question of reform. From the discussions of this body 
two rival solutions emerged. Of these the Centralist scheme, 
while granting local diets to the provinces, proposed to reserve 
all matters of importance for a central representative Par- 
liament of the whole Empire, The Federalist solution, on the 


other hand, was to concede complete self-government to the 
separate nationalities. By the October Diploma the latter 
system was adopted. It was wrecked by the ultra-nationalist 
party in Hungary, who, not content with the restoration of 
the Constitution in existence before 1848, behaved as though 
the March Laws of that year had been re-enacted. 

The Emperor now gravitated back to the Centralists. By 
the February Patent (1861) issued under the influence of 
Schmerling, a central Parliament was created 
whose members were to be elected by the new 
provincial assemblies. Hungary was to keep her 
separate administration, but, under the leadership of Francis 
Deak, stood out against an arrangement which made her in 
matters of taxation and legislation an Austrian province. 
The more violent party went further, and, encouraged by the 
fulminations of Kossuth from his place of exile in Italy, 
demanded a final breach with the Hapsburg dynasty. 

Francis Joseph never faltered in his belief that a 
satisfactory arrangement could be discovered. Dismissing 
Schmerling, he went in person to Pesth to hear 
at first hand the wishes of the Magyars, and to his 
wisdom and to the moderation of Deak the final 
solution was due. Centralisation being impossible, the choice 
now lay between Federalism and a Dualism which was distinct 
from both. The latter system may be roughly described as a 
partnership between the two independent States of Austria and 
Hungary, under one Crown and with a common government 
for certain well-defined common purposes. The discussions 
were interrupted by the war with Prussia, but the final arrange- 
ment was materially hastened by the transference of Count 
Beust from the service of Saxony to the Austrian ministry of 
foreign affairs, and in March, 1867, the Ausgleick or Compromise 
which established the Dual Monarchy was con- The Aus 
eluded. The Empire was divided into Cisleithania 
(Austria and its dependencies), and Transleithania (Hungary 
and its dependencies). Each was to enjoy self-government 
under its own Constitution, but the departments of war, 
finance, and foreign affairs, were to be in the hands of three 
ministers common to both. Two bodies of sixty members 
each, called the Delegations, were to be appointed to represent 
the legislatures of Austria and of Hungary respectively in 
questions of commerce and the like, and were to sit alternately 
at Vienna and at Pesth, In the event of disagreement they 


were to meet and vote without discussion and in silence. The 
agreement as to the share of taxation to be borne by each 
partner was to be revised every ten years. The claims of the 
smaller nationalities were thus sacrificed to an understanding 
between German and Magyar, but Hungary under the 
guidance of Deak, to whom the scheme for a central authority 
was mainly due, adopted a wise and liberal policy to Croatia 
and the other Slavonic dependencies. Amid the welter of 
conflicting tendencies it was no small achievement to have 
effected a settlement which has endured for nearly half a 



GARIBALDI once said of Louis Napoleon that he had a tail of 
straw and was afraid of its catching fire, and there was this 
element of truth in the saying that the influence 
of public opinion and of party clamour at home instability of 

S .... .,..,. 7 i i the Second 

made it difficult for him to pursue a steady and Empire. 
consistent policy abroad. It will always remain 
a debateable question whether, with wiser management, the 
Napoleonic regime might not have established itself perma- 
nently in France. Certainly at the outset it had given to 
the country internal peace, prosperity, and a commanding 
influence abroad, results which suggest that had the Emperor 
been supported by advisers of greater honesty, steadiness, and 
consistency of purpose, France might have acquired the 
stability of to-day without undergoing the discipline of a 
national humiliation. The Italian war of 1859, undertaken 
for an " idea " and in defence of an oppressed nationality, first 
divided public opinion, and Napoleon, at once the protector 
of the Pope and the patron of his nationalist enemies, was 
forced to temporise between two inconsistent aims, only to 
incur the ill-will of the Catholic party at home. 

Thus had one of the two leading " Napoleonic Ideas " 
been applied with little regard to practical consequences. 
It was part of the Emperor's singular blindness that he should 
have chosen a time when his policy offered so easy a mark 
for criticism to apply the other. In 1860 the first step 
was taken towards realising that transformation into a 
popular government, which by a strange hallucina- 
tion Napoleon regarded as the unfulfilled intention 
of the First Empire, and therefore the proper 
destiny of the Second. Calculation reinforced sentiment. It 
was believed that clerical hostility could be neutralised by the 
steady support of all whose views inclined towards free insti- 
tutions, and that a share in the responsibility of government 
by the nation would sober violent opinions, while the Emperor 


would no longer be chargeable with the entire blame for every 
passing ill success. The right was given to the Chambers of 
moving and discussing an address in reply to the speech 
from the throne. It was an invitation to criticism which 
was promptly accepted. Those who desired further conces- 
sions combined with the alienated Catholics and with protec- 
tionist manufacturers, who were enraged by the commercial 
treaty with the English free-traders, to attack the government. 
This opposition was not conciliated by the grant in 1861 of a 
right to discuss the Budget in detail, nor by the change, which 
took place in 1862, in the Emperor's attitude towards the Italian 
nationalists. In 1863 the failure to extend to Poland a protection 
which would have satisfied all parties led to the 
election of a compact opposition in the Corps 
legislatif, which found in the Emperor's newly ap- 
pointed Minister of State, charged with defending his policy 
before the Chamber, a definite mark for its shafts. The Roman 
Convention of 1864 (p. 322) stirred the Catholics to renewed 
fury, which was further exasperated by Napoleon's refusal 
to permit the publication of the Papal Syllabus (p. 350), and 
by the liberal educational policy of Duruy. Rouher, Minister 
of State, vainly strove to limit discussion to the functions of 
a safety valve, and to render popular control illusory. By 
1866 a Third Party had come into being, under Emile Ollivier, 
whose aim was to save the Empire by placing it on a constitu- 
tional basis. 

Events were rapidly driving the government into his 
arms. The industrial prosperity of France had brought its 
inevitable crop of labour troubles, and working- 
KOTiMarx! f class discontent had been stimulated by the 
teachings of two German Jews, Ferdinand Lasalle 
and Karl Marx. The latter, who is perhaps the father of 
modern socialism, abandoning the old co-operative and bene- 
volent notions (p. 166) taught that the gradual evolution of 
society would destroy private property and capitalism as 
inevitably as it had destroyed the feudal system, and would 
place the " means of production " in the hands of the State. 
In 1862 he founded in London an " International Association 
of Working-men," pledged to accelerate these changes by 
peaceful methods, which held annual congresses and passed 
somewhat vague resolutions till it was dissolved by internal 
disagreements. The Parisian artisan was not peaceful, thd 
memories of 1852 were strong upon him, but the movement 


stimulated his discontent. In 1868 the practical removal of 
censorship restrictions let loose all the fury of a scurrilous and 
irresponsible press, and it was in the same year that a fiery 
young lawyer from Marseilles, Leon Gambetta, leaped into 
sudden notoriety by a vigorous denunciation of the Coup d'etat 
in a trial resulting from a political demonstration over the 
grave of one of its victims. At each election the opposition 
increased in strength. 

In 1869 the final step was taken, and the " Liberal Empire " 
came into being with the concession of a ministry responsible 
to the Chambers and a grant to the Corps Ugislatif 
of the right to initiate legislation and to vote 
the Budget. The arrangement was confirmed 
by a plebiscite, in which the votes were deliberately taken upon 
the double issue of confidence in the Empire and approval of 
the new changes, an artifice which naturally procured a 
decisive majority by appealing to the most diverse opinions. 
Thus, at the crisis of its fortunes, the Second Empire found 
itself dependent upon maintaining a parliamentary majority, 
and exposed to the clamours of irreconcilable Catholics, of a 
revolutionary urban populace, and of a rising republican 
opinion. Meanwhile, the Imperial policy lost all steadiness 
swayed by the dynastic motives of the Court and the selfish 
fears of society. Over the festivities of the Exhibition of 
1867 there brooded the black cloud of the Prussian triumph 
at Koniggratz and of the tragedy in Mexico. 

The influences which we have endeavoured to place before 
the reader had made it impossible for Napoleon, whose own 
health and spirits were broken by the constant 
recurrence of a painful internal disease, to pS ja n aml 
maintain a consistent policy in his dealings with 
Prussia. His own instincts would have been to follow that 
preference for national consolidation, which we have had 
many occasions for noting, and to look with favour on the 
German unitary movement. Indeed, he had gone so far as 
to suggest to Bismarck the annexation of Schleswig-Holstein. 
The only practical alternative would have been armed inter- 
position in defence of Southern Germany before the conclusion 
of the struggle, and for this his financial difficulties and the 
Mexican entanglement had incapacitated him. He had thus 
allowed the preliminary treaty at Nikolsburg to be signed 
without putting forward French pretensions. 

The result was an outcry, in which Frenchmen of all 


opinions joined indiscriminately, and Napoleon was pushed 

by his foreign minister, Drouyn de Lluys, into de- 
paSSnate! 1 manding from Prussia the cession of the Palatinate 

along with portions of Hesse-Darmstadt and of the 
Prussian Rhine province. The demand was bluntly refused 
and cleverly exploited. A copy of the request was shown by 
Bismarck to Pfordten, the minister of Bavaria, to which State 
the Palatinate belonged, and served both to hasten an under- 
standing between Prussia and the Southern States, and to 
inspire the latter with a deep suspicion of France. In 1868 
they even consented to co-operate with the North German 
Confederation in establishing a common Customs Parliament 
for the control of the affairs of the Zollverein. 

In 1867, Napoleon, still nervously on the watch for an 
occasion to recover his lost prestige, made an attempt to buy 

Luxembourg from Holland. Once again Prussia 
A urchS^of stood in the way, for the right to maintain a 
Luxembourg, garrison in the fortress belonged to her by treaty. 

The Emperor had therefore to be content with the 
very small satisfaction of securing the neutrality of Luxembourg 
at the hands of the Powers and the withdrawal of the Prussian 
garrison. The incident left popular opinion on both sides of 
the Rhine excited and unsatisfied. War was evidently in sight, 
and at this inopportune moment the French Government was 
obliged to abandon Marshal Niel's suggestion for army reform 
on the basis of universal service, in deference to opposition in 
the Chamber and to financial difficulties. France, in fact, would 
neither permit the Emperor to keep the peace nor to prepare 
for war. 

The attitude of other Powers was therefore of considerable 
importance. Since the death of Palmerston, in 1865, England 

had abandoned all interest in foreign affairs, and 
sympatSes. was aDou t to embark under Gladstone's leadership 

on a programme of domestic change. Russia had 
not forgotten Napoleon's remonstrances against her action 
in Poland, nor Bismarck's effective support. Italy was 
smarting under a new grudge against France. Victor Emma- 
nuel indeed never allowed himself to forget his debt of gratitude 
for Magenta and Solferino, but he could hardly have carried 
his people with him into active support of his old ally. The 
withdrawal of the French garrison from Rome in 1866 in 
accordance with the convention of 1864, had led to another 
hare-brained attempt by Garibaldi to penetrate into Papal 


territory, this time from the north. The enterprise was the 
signal for renewed intervention and for another French 
expedition which crushed the raiders at Mentana and remained 
in permanent occupation of Civita Vecchia. These troops 
Napoleon dared not remove in face of Catholic opinion, and 
therefore could look for no help from Italy. From Austria 
there were better hopes of obtaining assistance, and with 
Austria negotiations had been proceeding behind the backs 
of the responsible ministers of both countries. In June, 1870, 
Marshal Lebrun had a series of interviews with Archduke Albert, 
the victor of Custozza, at Vienna, and a subsequent audience 
with Francis Joseph. He was given to understand that if France 
invaded Germany as liberator of the Southern States in the 
spring of the following year there would be every probability 
of joint action by Austria and Italy within six weeks. Napoleon 
was never able, as it turned out, to fulfil the condition, but it 
may be doubted if Russia would have suffered Austria to stir. 
Bismarck was now ready. He believed war inevitable, 
and desired to precipitate it, as the sole possible method of 
absorbing South Germany. An incident now 
presented itself which, with the aid of the suicidal ^^gjjj 811 
folly of France, he succeeded in transforming into question. 
a casus belli. In 1869, Prince Leopold of Hohen- 
zollern-Sigmaringen, brother of Prince Charles of Roumania, 
had been offered the throne of Spain, which was now vacant 
through the deposition of Queen Isabel (Chap. XXIV.). He 
had, however, declined the invitation. Bismarck seems to 
have secured the renewal of the offer, and in June, 1870, it 
was accepted. The prince was a Roman Catholic, and he 
was related to Napoleon ; but he was a German, and his friendly 
connections with his distant cousins of the Prussian branch 
of his house were proved by his asking for the King's consent 
as head of the family. The French were accordingly justified 
in objecting to his accession to the Spanish throne, and 
they were justified in regarding the Bang's sanction as 
provocative, though such was certainly not William's inten- 
tion ; but the language employed by Gramont, the foreign 
minister and by the French press was not suggestive of any 
wish for a peaceful solution. Yet for the moment the storm 
seemed to have blown over. King William was wisely 
determined not to regard the question as one in which Prussia 
had any concern, and his attitude made concession possible 
without loss of dignity to the nation. An attempt by Bismarck 


to rush the prince's election failed of success, and the question 
was set at rest by Leopold's spontaneous withdrawal. 

r France had gained her point, a great peril was averted, 
and honour on both sides was satisfied, but with insensate 

folly she tried to turn her success into a humilia- 
at h |ms erview tion for Prussia. Paris was wildly excited, the 

Court party were eager to conciliate popular 
feeling by ministering to its thirst for a national triumph, 
and by these two forces Ollivier and his colleagues were hurried 
into an unjustifiable act of provocation. Benedetti, the French 
ambassador, was instructed to approach King William, who 
was taking the waters at Ems, and to ask for a definite 
guarantee that he would never at any future time approve 
Prince Leopold's candidature. The interview took place 
upon the promenade, and the King very properly refused to 
give the pledge required, afterwards sending a message to 
the ambassador informing him that he had now heard definitely 
of the prince's withdrawal and had nothing further to add. 

The facts were telegraphed to Bismarck and communicated 
by him in a condensed form to the press. There is nothing 

to bear out the Chancellor's claim that the 
dares Ce war" message was deliberately edited by him with the 

object of precipitating the war. Indeed, the 
condensed version omits certain provocative phrases which 
occurred in the original. But the incident itself stirred up 
an outburst of inconsiderate fury in the press on both sides 
of the Rhine. The one nation declared that its King, the 
other that its ambassador had been insulted. The French 
ministry were instant for war, and were hounded on by the 
mob, the Chamber, and the press. Once more Paris had 
triumphed over her Government and over the soberer instincts 
of the rest of the nation, and the Empress and the self-styled 
friends of the dynasty looked on with satisfaction till Napoleon, 
weary with pain, at length yielded to his advisers. Paris 
and the Imperial house were appropriately enough to bear 
between them the heaviest share of the penalty. 

France was confident in her army. In China, where she 
had taken part with England in enforcing the opening of the 

Treaty Ports (1860), in Syria, where she had 
reXces o v f e intervened on behalf of the Christians of the 
Prussia and Lebanon district (1860), in Algiers, as well as in 

the campaigns already described, her troops had 
seen constant active service. They were armed with the new 


chasse-pot, a better weapon than their enemies possessed, which, 
to the indignation of the Italians, had been reported on officially 
as having " worked wonders " at Mentana. But Europe was 
to witness for the first time the scientific application to warfare 
of the resources of the age, and here the advantage lay all on the 
German side. The railways leading to the seat of war were 
completely under staff control ; the officers had received a 
thorough scientific training ; the cavalry had been practised 
in all the duties of reconnaissance ; artillery tactics had been 
improved by the system of massing batteries together ; every 
necessary was ready and in the right place ; every man knew 
his rendezvous and every regiment its post ; indeed, Moltke's 
plans for the campaign were already made, and orders had 
only to be issued to set the whole machine in motion. None 
of these things were to be found on the French side, and yet 
the support of Austria, and indeed everything else, depended 
upon her invading South Germany before her enemy could 
secure the frontier. Moreover, she had a smaller army and, 
thanks to her defective system, practically no reserves. 

By the beginning of August three German armies were 
in contact with the French frontier. The First, under Stein- 
metz, moved up the Moselle on Metz ; the Third, containing 
the South German contingents, and commanded by the Crown 
Prince, advanced up the Rhine against the northern frontier 
of Alsace ; while the Second, led by Frederick Charles, the 
" Red Prince," pushed forward along a line intermediate 
between the other two. It was with this last force that the 
French first came into contact in a reconnaissance by which 
they obtained a delusive advantage and occupied Saarbriicken. 
The rapidity of the German movements had in reality reduced 
the enemy thenceforward to a purely defensive 
strategy. The first blow was struck by the Crown wfrth. * 
Prince. Crossing the frontier he surprised and 
defeated MacMahon's advanced troops under Douay at Weis- 
senburg, and followed up the success by an attack upon the 
Marshal's entire army drawn up in position along the crest 
of a formidable wooded ridge at Worth. After desperate and 
wasteful assaults against the face of the position, the left flank 
of the French was turned, and so crushing a defeat inflicted 
upon them that MacMahon was forced to retire without a 
pause south-westwards upon Chalons (August 6). 

Once arrived at this point the army of Alsace were power- 
less to support the army of Lorraine upon which the brunt 


of the fighting now fell. On the very day of Worth the 
struggle began. The advanced troops of the Second Army 
having cleared the French out of Saarbriicken committed them- 
selves to a rash attack against a superior force 
under the command of General Frossard which 
occupied the heights of Spicheren. But the failure 
of Bazaine to send forward reinforcements and the initiative of 
the German generals, who brought up their commands succes- 
sively to the sound of the firing, turned what might have been 
a French victory into a defeat. The army of Lorraine, under 
the command of the Emperor himself, fell back upon Metz, 
followed by the First and Second German Armies. Here 
Napoleon resigned his command to Bazaine, at the instance 
of the ministry under Count Palikao, whom the Empress had 
placed in office, when at the news of the first reverses the 
Chamber had turned savagely on Ollivier and his colleagues. * 
The fortress of Metz stands on the east bank of the 
Moselle, which for practical purposes may be described as 
flowing north and south. Moltke's design was 
M ars^ia- e To^ d to hold the Frencn in position by attacking the 
town from the east, while he passed part of his 
force over the river at a point further south with the object 
of cutting the two roads by which retreat was possible in a 
westerly direction, upon Paris. Accordingly, the leading 
troops of the First Army fell upon the French rear-guard 
at Colombey on the line of the river Nied, east of Metz. 
The fighting was stubborn but the French held their own, 
and succeeded in drawing off under cover of darkness. 
The main army was still stationary, though it was not the 
action at Colombey but defective staff arrangements, the 
difficulty of bridging the Moselle, and the narrowness of 
the streets of Metz that had delayed Bazaine's retreat. 
Frederick Charles, indeed, who was in contact with the river 
south of the town, believed that the enemy were already well 
on their way west of Verdun, and awaited further intelligence. 
At this moment one of his subordinates, the commander of 
the Brandenburg Corps, General Von Alvensleben, received 
information which decided him to act on his own initiative. 
Crossing the Moselle he wheeled north and struck at the line 
of the Verdun road between Metz and Mars-la-Tour, maintain- 
ing his position against increasing odds till reinforced. Even 
so he might easily have been thrust back had not Bazaine, 
over-anxious to retain his power of issuing from Metz, and 


blind to the need of securing his line of retreat, concentrated 
his defence on the flank nearest the town. The mistake was 
fatal. As the evening closed in a series of cavalry charges 
placed the Germans astride of the Verdun road at Mars-la- 
Tour (August 16). 

The proper course of action should now have been clear. 
Bazaine ought, by all the rules of war, to have left a small 
garrison in the fortress and to have broken 
away with his main army in a north-westerly Qraveiotte. 
direction. But the movement would have ex- 
posed him while on the march to the danger of an attack upon 
his flank, his supplies were not ready, and he resolved to play 
for safety. Taking up his position on the plateau of Gravelotte 
with his back to Metz and facing west, he decided to await 
the German attack. If successful he intended to continue his 
retirement, if beaten he could at least retreat into the city. 
On August 18, the First and Second German Armies, having 
crossed the Moselle south of Metz and changed front, moved 
against him from the west. Their plan was to drive in his right or 
northern flank, and so to thrust him back into the fortress. The 
furious attack of Steinmetz at the southern end of the plateau, 
attended by losses for which he was subsequently deprived 
of his command, led to the concentration of the French reserves 
in the wrong place. Meanwhile the assault by the German Guard 
on the French centre at St. Privat, where Bazaine's right flank 
was wrongly supposed to rest, was almost equally costly, and 
it was evening before a successful flank movement was ulti- 
mately directed upon Amanvillers. The German losses had 
been unnecessarily heavy, but the victory was worth any 
purchase. The army of Lorraine, consisting of 180,000 of the 
best French troops, was cooped up in Metz. 

MacMahon, with the army of Alsace, now accompanied 
by the Emperor in person, had meanwhile reached Chalons, 
pursued by the Crown Prince with the Third 
German Army, and had arrived at the perfectly JJ|[J ? sedan" 
sound conclusion that the only practical course 
of action was to fall back upon the strong outworks of Paris. 
The decision was taken out of his hands by urgent orders 
from the Empress and Count Palikao. Influenced by the 
rising temper of the capital they instructed him to move 
forward in a north-easterly direction, and to assist Bazaine 
to break out of Metz. The Crown Prince, fully informed of 
the change of plan by his cavalry scouts and by French and 



English newspaper paragraphs, was soon in pursuit, and his 
advanced troops ran into the French flank at Beaumont, 
where a sharp engagement took place. MacMahon was 
obliged to draw off northwards, and halted at Sedan, perilously 
near the Belgian frontier, to give his weary and disheartened 
troops a much-needed rest. The town lay in a hollow and 
was exposed to artillery, but was guarded from direct attack 
by the Meuse to the south, two tributary brooks in deep hollows 
to the east and west, and by thick woods to the north. By 
dawn on September 1 the Germans had surrounded the place. 
The only chance for the enclosed army now lay in attempting 
to force their way out to the north and west where the enemy 
were weakest, and of this chance they were deprived by the 
infatuation of De Wimpifen. MacMahon had been wounded 
shortly after daylight, and had resigned his command to this 
officer on the strength of a special mandate which he bore from 
the Empress. Resolute to persevere at all hazards, he strove 
to cut his way out eastwards and towards Metz. Early in the 
afternoon the French were being penned into the town under 
a terrible artillery fire, and Napoleon insisted upon the white 
flag being hoisted in token of surrender. The whole army 
and the Emperor himself were thus made prisoners of war. 

Bazaine had done little to justify the effort to extricate 
him. He had allowed the investment to be completed, having 

failed to realise, just as MacMahon had done when 
of h Metz ence ne na ^ed at Sedan, the new power conferred upon 

the besieger by modern artillery and rifles of re- 
straining a besieged force from breaking through lines however 
weak. Owing to these causes and defective organisation 
by his staff, a half-hearted attempt to cut his way out at 
Noisseville on the very day of the great catastrophe ended 
in complete fiasco. 

Napoleon had truly said to Bismarck, at the historic 
interview on the Donchery road outside Sedan, that he had 

not sought the war, but had been driven into it 
second Empire, ty public opinion. Yet public opinion made 

him its scapegoat, and, on the news of the sur- 
render, the Second Empire fell. Crowds gathered in the 
streets of Paris and shouted, " Down with the Empire." The 
Chamber was raided, a resolution was carried to depose 
Napoleon, and a Republican " Government of National 
Defence " was installed at the Hotel de Ville. The memories 
of 1792, of Valmy and of Jemappes, conjured up the vision 


of a Republican France rising in her youthful might to hurl 
the invader across the frontier. But enthusiasm was vainly 
matched against science ; in less than three weeks the invest- 
ment of Paris was complete. 

Nevertheless the task of the German armies was by no 
means simple. The country people were now actively hostile, 
the movements of the cavalry were thereby 
circumscribed, and information was hard to get. TjJs. etta at 
A Delegation of the National Government had 
gone to Tours to rouse the provinces, and at the beginning 
of October its action was quickened by the arrival of Gambetta, 
who had escaped from Paris in a balloon. This passionate 
southerner, with his burning eloquence and inexhaustible 
energy, was well fitted to rouse the fighting spirit of the people, 
and to impart vigour to sluggish counsels. But Thiers had 
hit his weakness when he called him " un fou furieux" and 
his egotism never permitted others to make a wise use of the 
forces which he called into being. 

In six weeks he had created an army, and it was decided 
to use it in threatening the German lines from the direction 
of Orleans, where Von der Tann was posted to 
cover the siege. In pursuance of these plans tho? of 
General d'Aurelle de Paladines advanced up the 
Loire, overwhelmed Von der Tann with superior numbers 
at Coulmiers, and occupied Orleans. The Germans were 
thoroughly alarmed, and there was even talk of breaking 
up the siege of Paris, when the news arrived that Metz had 
capitulated. The army of Frederick Charles was thus set free 
to join in the operations round Paris. No condemnation is too 
severe for the action of Bazaine, who by holding out but 
another fortnight might have seriously compromised the 
position of the invaders. The First German Army, now under 
the command of ManteufM, was sent to deal with the French 
forces mustering between the Seine and the Somme. In view 
of the reinforcements received by the besiegers of Paris, and the 
inexperience of his own troops, d'Aurelle de Paladines was 
rightly desirous of awaiting the inevitable German attack in 
a carefully prepared position. But Gambetta, eager for an 
immediate success calculated to arouse the national spirit, 
forced his unwilling general to move forward upon Paris. 
The indifferent training of the troops did not lend itself to 
such rapid concentration as was necessary in order to break 
through the German covering force, and the two attempts 


successively made at Beaune la Rolande towards the French 
right, and at Poupry towards the left, only resulted in defeats. 
The retirement, conducted in severe December weather, so 
disorganised the troops that Orleans had to be abandoned. 
One-half of the force, under Chanzy, maintaining a dogged 
resistance, was thrust away westwards towards Le Mans, the 
other succeeded in crossing the Loire and concentrating under 
Bourbaki's command at Bourges. An effort made by Ducrot 
to break out of Paris towards the relieving army had been 
likewise unsuccessful. 

Meanwhile, Manteuffel, having taken Amiens and Rouen, 
pushed on intending to occupy the port of Havre, through 
which the French were receiving munitions of 
war - He had, however, to deal with an active 
and able antagonist in General Faidherbe, who 
striking at Amiens, brought Manteuffel back in haste to meet 
him on the Hallue, from which position, after an indecisive 
engagement, the French retreated in good order. This 
renewal of activity in the north encouraged the defenders of 
Paris to attempt another sortie in that direction, but with 
no better success. In the last days of December the bom- 
bardment of the city began. 

Nothing daunted, Gambetta was preparing a fresh enter- 
prise. Bourbaki received orders to move his troops by train 
to join the French levies in the neighbourhood 
German com- o f Besangon. With the support of other troops 
Eatened. 8 from Lyons and a body of volunteers, whom 
Garibaldi had brought to the aid of Italy's old 
ally, he was to relieve Belfort and to cut the German communi- 
cations with the Rhine. Meanwhile Chanzy from Le Mans, 
and Faidherbe from Amiens, were to press in upon Paris. 
The paper combinations of amateur strategists are seldom 
successful, and Gambetta's plans proved no exception to the 
rule. The task of transporting the troops by rail was attended 
by endless delays and by an amount of mismanagement which 
inflicted untold suffering on Bourbaki's soldiers. By the time 
he reached Besangon, Werder was ready for him, and a tem- 
porary advantage gained by the French at Villersexel was 
neutralised by a decisive repulse at Hericourt. The French 
now retired, but were not to escape. Manteuffel was recalled 
from his command in the north, and, at the head of a force 
hastily gathered from the troops round Paris, struck in at 
Bourbaki from the west driving him over the Swiss frontier. 


The unhappy general took his own life, and his troops were 
obliged to lay down their arms. Three weeks earlier Frederick 
Charles had scattered Chanzy's army in a desperate battle at 
Le Mans. 

There remained only Faidherbe in the field, who had 
been engaged at the very moment of Bourbaki's disaster in 
a well-planned but unsuccessful attempt to relieve 
Peronne. He was now ordered by Gambetta f^fjjjfat 6 de ~ 
to work eastwards round the opposing German st. Quentin. 
Army, thus threatening its communications, and 
to approach Paris from the north, with the object of supporting 
another sortie. The conception was thoroughly unsound, 
and the Germans, concentrating with great rapidity, came up 
with him at St. Quentin and succeeded at last in defeating 
him decisively and irretrievably. With better troops, in 
better weather, and unhampered by civilian interference, 
Faidherbe might have effected much. 

He could scarcely have averted the inevitable end. On the 
day before St. Quentin had been fought Trochu had made 
the last desperate sally from Paris against the 

37. i TT -11 rrn T The Armistice. 

German positions round Versailles. The Pro- 
visional Government, disregarding the angry protests of 
Gambetta, thereupon decided to accept an armistice with a 
view to the conclusion of peace. The forts and the garrison 
were surrendered, provisions were to be admitted, everywhere 
the armies were to stand fast till an assembly had been elected 
at Bordeaux to discuss and ratify the terms of peace (January 
28, 1871). 

Ten days before the armistice was concluded that for 
which patriotic Germans had waited and watched so long, 
for which Prussia had fought and Bismarck had 
plotted and planned, had been at length achieved, Q f r Q C g^n n 
and the old Confederation had become the Empire!^ 
German Empire under the King of Prussia as 
German Emperor. It was with a certain appropriateness, 
if perhaps with questionable taste, that the Galerie des Glaces 
in Louis XIV 's palace at Versailles, the very spot upon which 
his dazzling Court had again and again acclaimed the victories 
of the old regime over prostrate Germany, was selected as 
the scene of the ceremony which was to inaugurate a new 
era not only in Germany but in Europe. Here, surrounded by 
his fellow princes, by his military staff and state officials, 
by the Crown Prince, Moltke, Bismarck, and all the heroes 


of the war, and to the sound of the cannon, which still boomed 
over defiant Paris, William I was proclaimed. Few whose 
swords leaped from their scabbards to honour the new Imperial 
dignity were aware how hardly the final step had been won 
or with what hesitation King Louis of Bavaria had signed the 
letter making the proposal to his brother princes, a letter 
written by the same hand which had edited the telegram from 

While Germany thus completed her political structure 
at the moment of her triumph, France, chastened by her 
misfortunes, prepared, with a courage which won 
ofBOTdeaux! y ner the respect of Europe, to rebuild her house 
out of the ruins. Frenchmen went to the polls 
on the single issue of peace or war, and peace was the first 
object of the national desire. Only a small minority of 
Republicans was elected. They could not be trusted to 
stand firm against the cry for war a Voutrance still raised by 
their most conspicuous leader Gambetta. At the particular 
crisis the landowner, the noble or the monarchist was the safe 
candidate, the man who could be relied upon never to cast 
in his lot with the fiery demagogue whose policy the country 
dreaded. When, therefore, the Assembly met at Bordeaux 
the large majority were Monarchists, supporters either of 
the Legitimist or of the Orleanist branch. Their Royalist 
sympathies were, however, for the time being entirely 
secondary to the pacific intentions to which they had owed 
their election. 

This wise preference was to be strengthened by the influence 
of the leader to whom the majority gave their confidence. 

Adoi he Thiers -^ rance m ^ er nour ^ need has seldom failed to 
find the indispensable man ; and, if Gambetta 
had saved her honour, it was Adolphe Thiers who now came 
forward to preserve her very existence. He was strangely 
transformed since the days of the July monarchy. The party 
leader whose factiousness had done so much to ruin the 
Orleanist dynasty which he served, the aggressive patriot 
who had strained every nerve to involve France in war for 
an affair of honour in 1840, had already had his windows 
broken by the Parisians for his out-spoken opposition to the 
war-fever of 1870, and now returned to public life to conclude 
a humiliating but necessary peace with the enemies of his 
country, and to be the one moderating influence between 
contending parties at home. 


With unerring instinct the old party-chief grasped the 
cardinal facts of the situation. All question of the future 
constitution of France must be postponed while 
she parleyed with the enemy at her gates, and 
in the meanwhile a provisional republican regime 
would divide Frenchmen least. The Monarchists, wholly 
unprepared for action, would be glad to postpone the inevitable 
dissension between the two wings of their party, and the 
Republicans would be able to give their best energies to the 
service of France without abandoning their creed. By the 
Compact of Bordeaux it was agreed by all parties to suspend 
all questions affecting the constitutional settlement, and 
Thiers was declared Head of the Executive Power. 

There were problems before him which might have appalled 
the stoutest hearts. His first task was to make tolerable 
terms with the victorious Germans. Bismarck 
was in no mood to be generous, and Jules Favre, w?thGermany. 
minister of foreign affairs, had already found him 
a hard bargainer. Behind Bismarck stood the German 
military party, who meant " to bleed France white," in spite 
of the manifest unwisdom of such a course. Between the 
high-strung and almost frantic appeals and expostulations 
of Thiers, and the obduracy of the German staff, Bismarck 
often lost his temper and was rude to the verge of brutality. 
But if he had had his way he would have left France with 
Metz, which is little better than a German outpost in French 
territory, while depriving her of Strasburg, which had so 
often proved an open gateway for French inroads into Germany. 
Ultimately, France was obliged to submit to the surrender of 
Alsace with part of Lorraine, and to an indemnity of five 
milliards of francs. Pending the completion of the payment 
she was to be charged with the maintenance of an army of 
occupation, and she was to permit a portion of the enemy's 
forces to enter Paris in triumph. By this last sacrifice of 
the national pride Thiers saved the important fortress of 

Before these arrangements had been finally embodied in 
the Treaty of Frankfort the Government found harder and 
even more thankless work to be done at home. 
Not for the first time in French history the opinion commune!* 16 
of the country at large was defied by the city of 
Paris. The causes which led to the revolutionary movement 
of the Commune are somewhat difficult to trace. The men 


whom circumstances compelled to act together were guided 
by very different aims, and their ideas perished with them in 
the general proscription of their party. Moreover, they have 
received much less than justice at the hands of their victorious 
opponents, who not unnaturally regarded the violent assertion 
of sectional aims in the presence of the foreign foe as an act 
of treachery to the common interest. It is possible, however, 
to disentangle some of the guiding influences amid the complex 
variety of the passions and ideas which swayed the action 
of the capital. The indignity and the privations of the siege 
had produced a bitter and irreconcilable temper, which did 
not dispose the Parisians, accustomed by long habit to dictate 
to France, to acquiesce in the decisions of a majority 
elected by the rural districts. Suspicion no less than 
pride played its part in exasperating the opinion of the 
capital. To the city populace the views of the Monarchists 
were odious, and their control of the Assembly inspired the 
gravest distrust. The excited imagination of the half -starved 
work-people suspected a plot to restore the monarchy, or at 
least the intention to establish a middle-class Republic, 
which would disregard the claims of their own class. Nor 
was this all. To many of the leaders of popular opinion the 
fall of the Empire seemed a golden opportunity for the re- 
construction of France upon new lines. Their ideal was a 
loose federation of popularly elected municipal governments, 
which was to relax the rigid uniformity imposed by the soli- 
darity of the State, and to substitute something more flexible 
for the centralised system of local administration. Local 
needs were to be of the first importance, and the object of 
a minute organisation, which took account too exclusively of 
the requirements of an urban industrial population. The vast 
agricultural interests of rural France scarcely found a place 
in the scheme. 

Thus Paris was disposed to take offence, and the Govern- 
ment were not careful enough to avoid giving it. The 
German triumphal entry was, as we have seen, 
inevitable ; the establishment of the Assembly 
at Versailles instead of in the capital, was a 
matter of common prudence ; but the refusal to suspend 
any longer the payment of rent and commercial debts, and 
the withdrawal of pay from the half -starved classes who had 
enrolled in the National Guard were needless aggravations of 
existing difficulties. 


Friction soon passed into overt strife. As a measure of 
precaution the Government decided to remove the artillery, 
which had been placed for the defence of the city 
upon Montmartre, and the attempt resulted in the 
repulse of the regular troops and the murder of 
Generals Thomas and Lecomte by the mob. The capital 
had now openly defied the Assembly, and what authority 
existed within the walls was vested in the Central Committee 
which controlled the National Guard. Throwing to the winds 
the Compact of Bordeaux, Paris proceeded to elect a General 
Council of the Commune, which at once adopted the revolu- 
tionary calendar and the red flag, set a whole series of com- 
mittees to work at reorganising municipal institutions on new 
lines, and appealed for the co-operation of all the other great 
towns in France. 

Meanwhile, the authorities at Versailles had determined 
to use force. The sporadic outbreaks in the provinces were 
put down, and an unhappy precedent was set 
by the execution of some prisoners who had pa^g. ingin 
fallen into their hands during a sortie from the 
capital. On the return of the prisoners released by the 
Germans, troops became available, and Paris was to be subdued 
by the only methods which within living memory had tamed her 
fury, the methods of General Cavaignac and of Louis Napoleon 
Bonaparte . On May 2 1 , a systematic attack began from the west , 
and for a whole week a carnival of savagery raged from street 
to street and from quarter to quarter. All the passions of hatred 
and cruelty were unloosed on both sides. Non-combatants and 
prisoners were slain in cold blood by the troops, hostages 
were butchered, and the Tuileries and other public buildings 
were burnt to the ground by the National Guards and the 
mob. And when at length the last position of the Communards 
was carried at Pere la Chaise, it was only to inaugurate a 
campaign of proscriptions at least as unsparing. Executions 
and transportation finished what the rifle and the bayonet 
had begun. The revolutionary industrial party was for the 
time being wiped out of French political life. 

Such hideous scenes augured ill for the future. But the 
fever fit once past, France set herself soberly and patiently 
to lift the immense financial burden of her own 
debt and the German indemnity. The thrift fKdemniy. 
of her people and the soundness of her credit 
proved in the hands of Thiers to be assets of which Europe 


had scarcely estimated the value. The requisite loans were 
easily raised, the last instalment of the indemnity was paid 
off by the middle of 1873, and Thiers was justly acclaimed as 
the Liberator of the Territory. So great was the confidence 
that his government inspired that he was able to reorganise 
the army upon the basis of universal service, though it laid 
upon each citizen not exempted by educational attainments, 
the heavy burden of five years with the colours. He succeeded 
in like manner in securing concessions to the idea which had 
inspired the Commune by instituting elective councils, and 
permitting the municipalities to choose their own mayors 
except in the largest cities. 

But by this time the truce between the rival parties in 
the Assembly was at an end in everything but in name. 

The Orleanist princes, the Duke of Aumale and 
MonSdSs d ts he tne Prince f Joinville, sat in the Assembly, and 

both wings of the Monarchists conceived that the 
moment had come to press for a permanent settlement. 
Thiers had been an Orleanist, and was perhaps still a monar- 
chist at heart, but had long since convinced himself that the 
practical difficulties in the way of a restoration were insuper- 
able, since any definite proposal directed to that end must at 
once divide Legitimists, Orleanists and Bonapartists by the 
bitterest jealousies. " There is," he said, " only one throne, 
and it cannot have three occupants." As soon as this 
attitude became clearly defined all three sections desired 
nothing so ardently as the removal of the man whom they 
quite wrongly regarded as the sole obstacle to the realisation 
of their hopes ; and the wish hardened into a determination 
when in November, 1872, he declared that the time had 
come to establish the Republic. It was now merely a question 
of opportunity. By a small majority the Monarchists declined 
to elect his nominee to the presidency of the Chamber. A 
later election in Paris proved that the Republicans could not 
be trusted to support his candidates. 

No man could divine more quickly than Thiers the turn 
of the political tide. There was to be a sharp conflict between 

two rival ideals of policy and government, in 
Thie?s ati n f which a moderating influence could find no place. 

On May 24, 1873, he resigned. He had brought 
France through the crisis of her fortunes. Whether it were 
Republic or Monarchy that in the end should be established 
he had laid the indispensable foundation for either. 



WITH the treaty of Frankfort the series of national wars by 
which the new order in Europe had been evolved came to a 
conclusion. The epilogue of the Russo-Turkish 
war, to be noticed in the next chapter, served only 
to determine the destinies of the distant Balkan 
peninsula, and to prove the solidity of the new structure in 
the presence of an unexpected strain. It will be the aim of 
the present chapter to give an account of certain permanent 
modifications of character and feature in some of the nationali- 
ties playing their several parts in the European drama, 
characteristics which they will continue to exhibit during the 
concluding scenes, and which are traceable to the events of 
the epoch now under discussion. In this connection the affairs 
of Italy, Germany, France, and Spain will successively claim 
our notice. 

The outbreak of the Franco -Prussian war still saw Italy 
deprived of her natural capital at Rome by the unwilling 
protection which the needs of Napoleon's domestic 
policy obliged him to extend to the Holy See. 
The government of Victor Emmanuel was thus 
placed in the dilemma of having to choose between action 
which would court the certain hostility of France and 
abstention only too likely to turn the national aspira- 
tions and disappointments into dangerous discontent. We 
have seen how the authorities in their dread of the former 
alternative, stopped Garibaldi's misguided expedition on 
the heights of Aspromonte in 1861, and even concluded 
the injudicious September Convention in 1864, by which, 
in consideration of the French evacuation, they under- 
took not to occupy Rome by force. Again, in deference 
to popular clamour, they had in 1867, attempted to secure 
Rome without violating the letter of the Convention by 
exciting revolution within the Papal borders, a piece of 
disingenuousness which had encouraged Garibaldi to another 


raid, and had forced Napoleon, sorely against his will, to 
despatch a fresh expedition, which, after dispersing the 
invaders at Mentana, had remained in occupation of Civita 
Vecchia. The declaration of war between France and Prussia 
evidently presented Italy with a golden opportunity for 
realising her hopes. Opinion was divided as to the use to 
which it was to be turned. The bitter hatred for France, 
which the bulk of the nation had entertained since Mentana, 
as well as the passionate desire for Rome, awoke a demand 
that Italy should claim her heritage without reference to 
either of the combatants. But Victor Emmanuel could not 
forget Magenta and Solferino ; and all that was chivalrous 
in him bade him take the side of his old ally. An attempt 
was made to effect a compromise between these opposing 
views by offering assistance to France in return for the with- 
drawal of the French from Civita Vecchia, and the abandon- 
ment of the September Convention. Happily for Italy the 
attempt was made in vain. Napoleon, indeed, knew that 
" the occupation of Mexico and of Rome were the two bullets 
that France carried in her heel " ; but Clerical support 
was necessary to him, and the remark attributed to the 
Empress, " Better the Prussians in Paris than the Piedmontese 
in Rome," expressed accurately enough the Clerical point of 
view. And, when at length the series of disasters which 
culminated at Gravelotte brought the Emperor to the point 
of desiring Italy's support on any terms, Victor Emmanuel's 
eyes had at last been opened. He thankfully decided for 
neutrality with the comment : " Poor Emperor, I pity him, 
but we have had a lucky escape." 

The garrison of Civita Vecchia had long since been recalled, 
and the rising feeling of the country was already making it 
difficult to respect any longer the obligations 
of the September Convention, when the fall of 
Sedan decided the Government to act. Troops 
were massed on the frontier, and an attempt was made to 
obtain the peaceful possession of the Holy City by negotiations 
with the Pope. Such an attempt was foredoomed to failure. 
The years of the French occupation had been the turning-point 
in the history of the Papacy. Penned within a contracted 
territory by the rising floods of revolution, Pius IX and his 
adviser Antonelli were developing a policy designed to pilot 
the Catholic Church through the political and intellectual 
currents of an age which they imperfectly understood. Alike 


to the aspiration after political liberty and to the tendency 
towards criticism and free inquiry they were becoming more 
resolutely opposed. It would indeed have been strange if 
the Church of Rome, with all its insistence upon the claims of 
order and authority and the duty of obedience, had welcomed 
the new and conflicting ideas of contemporary politicians 
and thinkers. But even at Rome policy had in the past at 
times outweighed tradition, and something more than obstinacy, 
however conscientious, is required to explain an attitude 
which has done so much to divorce the Church from the 
common life of Catholic countries. There was, in fact, much 
to encourage men whose knowledge of the world did not extend 
far beyond the limits of their own profession in the belief 
that the world was only waiting for a strong lead from Rome. 
The secular attitude assumed by European States since 
the Revolution had led them in the first instance to treat 
the Church as a voluntary association outside 
their cognisance. The clergy generally had, as Sontanism. 
a result, become more homogeneous, more 
professional in character, and more careful of the interests 
of their own order. The later bickerings between State and 
Church, due partly to jealousy of ecclesiastical influence in 
politics, partly to the difficulty of defining the proper share 
of the Church in education, had denationalised churchmen 
and produced a solidarity of Church feeling all over Europe, 
increasingly dependent for guidance upon Rome. The 
papal control of the Catholic hierarchy, assisted, like every 
other form of control, by new and more rapid means of com- 
munication, had seldom been stronger. Nor did the change of 
attitude lack the approval of lay opinion. The dull utilitarianism 
of bureaucratic government, and the sordid opportunism of 
party under free institutions, had disposed imaginative minds 
to welcome in matters of conscience the authority of an 
organisation invested with all the glamour of the past, and 
appealing to ideals of enthusiasm and loyalty. Moreover, 
there was scarcely a lost or failing cause in an age of sweeping 
change which did not rally to the Church for the support it 
could afford. Of these elements was built up the Ultramontane 
party, the members of which, lay and clerical alike, to whatever 
nation they belonged, put the Church before the State and took 
the word of command from Rome. Even the changes which 
made for political freedom had, curiously enough, operated in 
the same direction, and rulers dependent upon the votes of their 


subjects, could not afford to disregard an organised section of 
public opinion. Formidable auxiliaries, moreover, had been 
enlisted, for the Papacy had definitely accepted the alliance 
of the Jesuits and had discovered and utilised all the resources 
of a free press. 

Finally, the diminution and impending loss of the Temporal 
Power was not without its effects. Less concerned than of 
old for the security of his territories the Pope had less need 
to conciliate the friendship of the great military powers by 
concessions to their prejudices. Despoiled of the ancient 
possessions of the Holy See he approached the problems of 
the age with a judgment clouded by the sense of personal 

Pius IX saw authority in Church and State assailed by 
free inquiry. He resolved to compel the recognition of the 
issue by the classes and interests upon which 
The Encyclical he believed he could rely, and to make hesitation 
Snis. e Sy " or compromise no longer possible for them. 
In December, 1864, he issued the famous Ency- 
clical Letter to Christendom, Quanta Cur a, and attached 
thereto a Syllabus of all those errors of the age, which had 
already been condemned by himself or his predecessors. 
The Encyclical declared the paramount authority of religion 
(meaning the faith prescribed by Rome), and denounced 
every manifestation of independence of thought or action 
in Church and State by which that authority was impaired. 
The Syllabus consisted of a heterogeneous collection of 
eighty propositions, dealing with such miscellaneous sub- 
jects as Bible Societies, the Temporal Power, Education, 
lay control of the Church and religious toleration, and in- 
cluding under a general condemnation a number of current 
forms of philosophical and political opinion. 

This step created much consternation among moderate 
churchmen, and many and vain were the efforts to explain 
away the plain meaning of the pronouncements. 
coum>ii tican Such attempts sufficiently revealed tendencies to- 
wards disunion dangerous to his newly won autoc- 
racy which decided Pius to take a further step. He resolved to 
call a General Council both to consolidate the Papal authority 
and to settle the questions to which the last half century had 
given birth. It was no secret that the Church would be asked 
to affirm the doctrine of Papal Infallibility. The Council sat 
at the Vatican during the great part of 1875. The proceedings 


were little better than a Papal coup d'etat. Contrary to all 
precedent European sovereigns were not invited to send 
representatives, nor did they attempt, perhaps unwisely, to 
insist upon so troublesome a privilege. No general preliminary 
programme of the matters to be discussed was published ; 
the preparatory committees were chosen by the Pope, and 
worked with closed doors ; by the Pope the whole procedure 
was, in the first instance, laid down, and afterwards arbitrarily 
modified. The multitude of Italian and titular prelates, 
though far from representing the majority of Christendom, 
assured the Infallibilists of a majority in every session, and 
no effort was spared to counteract any influence which the 
personal qualities or learning of the minority might command. 
Strict regulations forbade private meetings, the printing of 
speeches, and the publication or even the receipt of books and 
pamphlets, thus defeating any attempt at organised opposition. 
No opportunity was lost of appealing to the loyalty, perplexity or 
fears of all who hesitated. Finally, when it was clear that resis- 
tance could not be entirely conciliated or evaded, it was decided 
to apply the closure and to accept the verdict of a majority 
instead of the unanimity which precedent demanded. Thus 
confronted with the certain prospect of defeat the minority 
dwindled away, and even the last twenty irreconcilables 
ultimately agreed to leave Rome without voting. 535 prelates 
accepted the definition of the new doctrine now presented to 
them. It was authoritatively declared that when the Pope 
speaks ex cathedra his decisions are invested with Infallibility. 
The Council then dispersed, leaving its other business either 
untouched or unfinished. 

It was not to be expected that the Power which had thus 
flung down the gage to the spirit of the times would tamely 
bow to the will of the Italian Kingdom. Inten- 
tionally slow as was the advance of Victor ome ati n f 
Emmanuel's army, Pius made no use of the respite 
to repent ; yet he was in no position to resist. The walls were 
bombarded and a breach effected near the Porta Pia, through 
which the Italian troops entered amid the plaudits of the 
people. The dearest wish of the Government was now to 
conciliate the Pope. It would have been well if a less sym- 
pathetic attitude had scared the Papal Court to flight. In 
vain was Cavour's and Ricasoli's principle of the " Free 
Church in a Free State " adopted. Pius was irreconcilable. 
And though, under the Law of Guarantees, the sanctity of the 


Pope's person, his sovereignty within the Vatican, and his 
freedom to deal independently with the Church and with foreign 
powers were duly recognised, though a handsome provision was 
made for his support, and though the State surrendered in 
name any claim to control the Church within the borders of 
Italy, it proved in practice impossible to reconcile the law of the 
land at all points with the claims of the Syllabus. The Pope, 
from the first, declined to recognise the terms of the enactment. 
He and his'successors have remained "prisoners in the Vatican ' ' 
within the capital of United Italy ever since Victor Emmanuel 
took possession (1871). 

Before very long the Papal claims brought on a serious 
conflict with the young German Empire, whose constitution 

modelled upon that of the North German Con- 
cons?SoS. federation (p. 326) demands here some further 

notice. It was characteristic of Bismarck that 
the Constitution was introduced by none of the preliminary 
declarations of " Fundamental Rights," so dear to earlier 
constitution-makers. Equally characteristic was the absence 
of all attempt to reproduce the features of foreign constitutions 
or to follow out abstract principles to their logical conclusions. 
He decided to build out of native materials, and to be guided 
by the practical issues of German political life. There were 
two strong and ineradicable tendencies in Germany which 
had proved at different times serious obstacles to unity and 
to his own policy. The one was " Particularism," exemplified 
in the mutual jealousies of the princes and in every kind of 
local prejudice and patriotism, the other the unifying and 
levelling influence of Liberalism, indirectly injurious to national 
unity through its defiance of Particularist prejudice, and dis- 
tasteful to Bismarck himself owing to its distrust of a strong 
executive. He was too wise to attempt the extinction of 
either. He resolved to recognise both, and to set them to 
neutralise one another. 

Two representative bodies were constituted to embody the 

two principles. The one, the Bundesrath, or Federal Council, 

was composed of the representatives of the differ- 

e> ent governments ; the other, the Reichstag, or 

Parliament, of members elected by equal constituencies all 

over the Empire on the basis of manhood suffrage. Contrary 

to the practice of other constitutions it was to the non-popular 

chamber that the balance of political power was entrusted. 

Through a system of standing committees appointed to deal 


with various departments of public business, it acted as a 
kind of deliberative council of State ; in its collective capacity 
it was the principal legislative body, where laws were intro- 
duced and discussed before submission to the Reichstag. Its 
proceedings were secret. The Reichstag's powers were limited 
to the right of sanctioning, rejecting, or amending new laws, 
and of granting or refusing new taxes. 

The executive was practically independent of either body. 
The Emperor, as head of the State, had the sole right of 
appointing the Imperial Chancellor, the only TheExecutive 
minister in any true sense of the term, for the 
others were little more than departmental clerks. The Chan- 
cellor presided over the BundesratJi, where the jealousies 
of the other States were sufficient to secure a preponderance 
for Prussia ; he was neither a member of, nor responsible to 
the Reichstag ; it was his duty to address that body in expla- 
nation of Imperial policy, and in his dealings with the members 
he was chiefly concerned to secure by political bargains 
a combination of party groups favourable to the policy he 
pursued. To the Imperial Government the federated States 
surrendered the control of foreign affairs, colonisation, com- 
mercial policy, and the railway, postal and telegraph services, 
while retaining the management of local matters. The 
strength of the military contingents to be maintained by each 
State was to be determined by the Emperor ; all soldiers were 
to take the oath of allegiance in his name ; and the Prussian 
military law, universal service system, methods of training 
and organisation were to prevail throughout the Empire. 
To these arrangements there were not a few special exceptions, 
conceded by Bismarck in spite of the centralising tendencies 
of the Liberals and of the Crown Prince, with a view to con- 
ciliating the injured pride of Saxony and of the Southern 
States, more especially of Bavaria. 

Tolerant as Bismarck was of the engrained historical 
tendencies of parties and districts he showed himself impatient 
from the first of any new combinations which 
attempted to control or deflect the policy of the 
State. The events which had occurred in Italy 
during 1870 had already begun to react powerfully upon 
Germany in two distinct ways. At one and the same moment 
it became the object of Ultramontane Catholic opinion to 
influence the foreign policy of the Empire against the new 
Italian Kingdom in the interests of the lost Temporal Power, 



while, on the other hand, a large body of Church opinion was 
not prepared to accept the decisions of the Vatican Council. 
Of these latter those who refused their assent were excommuni- 
cated, and proceeded to form the so-called " Old Catholic " 
communion, denouncing the Vatican decrees as revolutionary 
novelties. The result was the expulsion from their posts of 
a number of religious teachers and professors, including the 
great scholar Dollinger, by the authority of the bishops acting 
on instructions from Rome. The government entered the 
lists to protect the professors, and at once found itself in 
conflict with a new party group in the Reichstag, calling itself 
the Centre. Such was the origin of the Kulturkampf, or war 
on behalf of civilisation, as it was styled by the State authori- 
ties. Bismarck was in no mood for compromise. Alluding 
to the famous submission of the Emperor Henry IV, he 
loudly declared that he would not " go to Canossa," and threw 
himself on the support of the National Liberal party. The 
Jesuits were expelled from the Empire, and civil marriage 
was required in addition to the religious ceremony throughout 
its borders. In Prussia itself, with Dr. Falk as Minister of 
Worship and Instruction, a series of enactments known as 
the " May Laws " were passed forbidding public excommuni- 
cation, providing for appeals against ecclesiastical sentences, 
imposing upon divinity students a three years' course at a 
university followed by a State examination, making all 
Church appointments conditional upon notice given to the 
authorities and their sanction, and establishing State inspection 
of religious training colleges. 

But Bismarck had not reckoned on the power of " passive 
resistance." The clergy systematically broke the law, and 
accepted the results in fines, imprisonments, suspensions, and 
the closing of places of worship. The ministrations of the 
Church almost came to a standstill ; and the religious habits 
and consciences of the laity were affronted, while the victims 
of State persecution won all the admiration which is accorded 
to men who suffer for their convictions. The party of the 
Centre grew in strength and numbers. Bismarck had gone 
too far. Moreover, the National Liberals were inconvenient 
allies. They were not at heart in sympathy with his foreign 
and financial policy. Socialism was lifting its head, and he 
could not count upon their support in the extensive programme 
by which he hoped to quiet industrial discontent. In 1877 
he sent in his resignation, which was received by the Emperor 


with the single comment " Never ; " and the Chancellor retained 
an office which he was perhaps only half serious in attempting 
to relinquish. The death of Pius IX and the succession of 
Leo XIII in 1878 offered an opportunity for terminating 
the strife. The new Pope, as unbending as his predecessor in 
maintaining all the principles of Papal authority, was more 
conciliatory in their practical application. Diplomatic rela- 
tions were restored, and little by little the May Laws were 
modified or dropped. 

Meanwhile, in France the increased activity of the Catholic 
Church proved one of the most potent of many agencies at 
work to secure a monarchical restoration. No 
sooner had Thiers been disposed of than the 
royalist majority set to work to gather the fruits 
of the victory which they had won by their temporary alliance 
with Gambetta's section of the Republican party. Marshal 
MacMahon, a Legitimist by descent and sympathies in spite 
of having served Napoleon, was elected President, and pro- 
ceeded to appoint a mixed ministry of Legitimists, Orleanists 
and Bonapartists, under the Duke of Broglie. Great efforts 
were made to purge the personnel in the public services of 
republican elements, to control the press, to increase the 
authority of the Church in education, and to exercise official 
pressure at the supplementary elections to the Assembly, 
which had recently been going in favour of Republican candi- 
dates. But while the ground was thus prepared for a restora- 
tion, any practical steps in that direction were deferred by 
the secession of the Bonapartists and by the irreconcilable 
rivalry of the Orleanist and Legitimist claimants. 

At last, after repeated negotiations, the former, the Count 
of Paris, grandson of Louis Philippe, a man of thirty-five, 
who had seen life from many sides, having fought 
in the American Civil War, and studied social chambor n d. f 
and political questions in England, made a real 
effort to secure a compromise. He visited his rival Henry, 
Count of Chambord, grandson of Charles X, at the castle of 
Frohsdorf . He offered to stand aside in favour of his childless 
cousin, who was now fifty-two, if the latter would accept him 
as heir-presumptive. The Count of Chambord was not ill- 
disposed to agree. He desired to rule in France and believed 
himself the destined instrument of her regeneration. But 
he had nourished, during a secluded existence, a half romantic, 
half religious devotion to the traditions of an idealised ancien 


regime and a hatred of everything suggestive of the Revolution. 
He insisted that during his own life, at least, the ancient white 
banner and the Lilies of France must be restored. This 
condition the leaders of the party in Paris justly regarded as 
impossible ; MacMahon even declaring that " the chasse-pots 
would go off of themselves " in defence of the tricolour. But 
all efforts to shake the royal exile's resolution proved in vain. 
" Henry V " deliberately threw away his chance of wearing a 
crown under conditions distasteful to his fastidious temper. 
His partisans declined to recognise the fact. They were not 
prepared to transfer their allegiance to the Count of Paris ; 
they even combined with the Republicans to overthrow the 
Broglie ministry to punish its Orleanist sympathies. Accord- 
ingly, the Orleanist and Bonapartist sections united upon a step 
calculated to gain time. A measure known as the " Law of the 
The se tennate Septennate ' ' was proposed, prolonging MacMahon's 
presidency for seven years. By the end of that 
period the Count of Chambord might be dead, and Napoleon's 
son, the Prince Imperial, would have reached manhood. 
The proposal was carried with the goodwill of the Republicans, 
who rightly saw that every year which passed without a 
restoration brought the final triumph of the Republic nearer. 
Indeed, amid the dissensions and perplexities of the 
other factions they were gaining ground every day. In July, 
1874, Casimir Perier succeeded in obtaining from 
the Assembly an expression of opinion in favour 
of giving a regular organisation to the Republic, 
and, in the following January, a proposal, carried by Wallon 
as an amendment to another motion, declared by a majority 
of one for the election of a new President at the end of 
MacMahon's seven years. From that moment the future of 
France was decided, and during the next few months the 
Constitution, destined to last into our own times, was built 
up piece-meal by successive enactments. It consists of a 
President and two elective bodies, known as the Senate 
and the Chamber of Deputies. The President elected at a 
joint session of the two Chambers for a period of seven years 
enjoys the authority of a constitutional monarch, except that, 
instead of possessing a veto upon legislation, he is entitled to 
refer measures back to the Chambers for reconsideration. 
He acts through ministers responsible to the Chambers whom 
he is empowered to appoint or dismiss with due regard to 
the balance of parties in the Chamber of Deputies. The 


Deputies, 584 in number, are elected by universal male suffrage 
for four years, every voter having the privilege of voting for 
as many candidates as his department commands seats. 
The Senate of 300 members is chosen for nine years by electoral 
bodies in each department, composed of the departmental 
senators and deputies together with delegates from the local 
Councils. Every three years one-third of the members retire. 

The National Assembly was dissolved on the last day of 
1875, and the new elections returned a large Republican 
majority to the Chamber of Deputies. The 
victorious party proceeded to undo the prepara- 
tions which their predecessors had made for a 
restoration, by dismissing officials of anti-republican views, 
by relaxing Government supervision over the press and the 
elections, and by placing restrictions upon the action of the 
clergy. MacMahon made one last attempt at resistance. 
He dissolved the Chamber and recalled Broglie and his 
coalition ministry to power. But the elections, in spite of a 
vigorous campaign, resulted in only a trifling reduction of 
the Republican majority in the Chamber. The periodical 
renewal of a third of the Senate shortly after was no less 
discouraging, giving the Republicans a clear majority in the 
Upper House. MacMahon recognised the inevitable, and in 
January, 1879, resigned the Presidency, being succeeded by 
Jules Grevy. 

The year which saw the establishment of the Third Republic 
was disturbed by a war-scare. For several weeks the country 
seemed to be on the brink of another struggle 
with Germany. Ever since the Treaty of Frank- 
fort the policy of Bismarck had been governed 
by a two-fold fear, the dread of French revenge, for which the 
temper of the defeated nation, " staring as if hypnotised into the 
gap in the Vosges," afforded some justification, and the danger 
of a combination between France and Russia. These perils he 
strove to forestall by keeping France weak and by cultivating 
the friendship of her prospective ally. Accordingly, he had 
looked with favour on the Republican party, which he regarded 
as a disintegrating influence, and had recalled and disgraced 
Count Harry Arnim, the German ambassador in Paris, for 
the countenance he had given to the royalist plans (1872). 
In the same year he had brought about a friendly meeting 
between William I, Alexander II, and Francis Joseph at 
Berlin, at which a general understanding was arrived at for 


common action in maintaining the status quo, and in dealing 
with any future phases of the Eastern Question or of revolu- 
tionary activity. There was, however, no formal " Three 
Emperors' League," as the public wrongly supposed ; indeed, 
Russia soon became aware of a private understanding between 
Germany and Austria to promote the ambitions of the latter 
in the Balkan peninsula. 

If Bismarck felt himself secure against France, the military 
party in Berlin had never ceased to be alarmed by the rapid 

payment of the indemnity and by theuncompromis- 
i875 affair f m language used about Alsace-Lorraine. A large 

addition to the French armies in 1875 precipitated 
the crisis, and Moltke and his friends urged the Emperor to 
attack France before she was ready. It seems that Bismarck 
made up his mind to defeat the designs of the military party 
by making them known. If so he overreached himself. 
Radowitz, who stood high in the Chancellor's confidence, 
met Gontaut Biron, the French ambassador, at a ball in Berlin, 
and took the opportunity to perpetrate a calculated indiscre- 
tion, warning him of the peril which France was incurring. 
The French premier, Duke Decazes, was greatly alarmed, and 
permitted himself to discuss the matter with Blowitz, the 
correspondent of the Times. The Times thereupon published 
the whole story, to the consternation of Europe, and in the 
meanwhile France had approached the Czar, urging him to 
take action to avert the crisis. Alexander was at the moment 
on the point of visiting Berlin, and his personal remonstrances 
with the Emperor were seconded by a letter from Queen 
Victoria. There was probably little real danger of war. 
The Emperor's own wishes were pacific, and there was nothing 
to tempt Bismarck to endanger the success of his foreign 
policy to please a faction which he disliked. Nevertheless, 
as was natural, the intervention of foreign Powers was most 
distasteful to him, and he nourished a long-standing grudge 
against the Russian Chancellor Gortchakoff (which was to 
have its consequences later on) as well as against the Crown 
Princess (daughter of Queen Victoria), whom, with her husband, 
he regarded, rightly or wrongly, as a centre of English influence 
at Court. 

No review of the general results in Europe of the period 
closing with the Franco-Prussian war would be complete with- 
out some notice in outline of the events by which Spain, 
during a period of chronic turbulence and misgovernment, 


assumed the political features which she exhibits to-day. The 

fall of the July monarchy extinguished those national and 

dynastic ambitions, which had engaged French 

interests in the affairs of the peninsula, and 

severed the link by which it had been connected 

with international politics. For thirty, years Spanish struggles 

lie wholly apart from the general current of events in Europe. 

We have already (p. 177) described the discreditable 
intrigue which had sacrificed the young Queen's domestic 
happiness and tied her to a contemptible husband. 
To Isabel personally, with her sensual nature and 
her entire lack of any conception of duty, a virtue which her 
upbringing under an unprincipled mother had done nothing to 
inculcate, the experience was ruinous. Left without guidance 
at the early age of sixteen, she revenged herself for the wrong 
done to her by a series of disgraceful connections, which, con- 
tinued throughout her reign, were to no small extent account- 
able for her deposition. Thus it happened that personal intrigue 
and the interest of the latest favourite swayed the policy of 
the Court, and were exercised to promote ends wholly selfish. 
The sole counter-balancing influence, no less disastrous if less 
discreditable, was to be found in the Queen's whole-hearted 
devotion to the interests of the Church, and in the power 
which the monks, nuns, and confessors who haunted the 
palace were able to gain over her superstitious mind. A 
tolerably close understanding generally existed between these 
persons and the King Consort, with whom Isabel was naturally 
at variance. 

Nor were better things to be hoped of the political parties 
and their leaders than of the Crown. There were few indivi- 
duals, and not one of the party groups, whose 
aims were not selfish, while a factious spirit utterly 
regardless of compromise dissolved every com- 
bination into its elements, and rendered consistent political 
effort impossible. It was seldom during the thirty years 
from 1845 to 1875, that any Government could hold its own 
which was not dominated by a general whose personal influence 
with the army was sufficient to ensure respect for his authority. 
Yet the army, though it proved the sole guarantee of order, 
prevented the evolution of more stable conditions, since again 
and again it saved the Court from the consequences of its 
crimes and follies ; and, by checking political passions in 
full career, deprived demagogues and reactionaries alike of 


the sobering experience of witnessing the logical results of 
their own follies. 

By October, 1847, scandal was already coupling the 

Queen's name with that of General Serrano, discontent was 

rife, a rising kindled by the Carlists had broken 

Narvaez and out in Catalonia, and the mutterings of the 

the crisis , . ,., , & ,, 

of 1848. approaching upheaval were audible all over 

Europe. At this moment, on the eve of the Year 
of Revolution, Isabel, influenced by her fears, summoned 
Narvaez to her support, and gave him the permission he asked 
for to " seize the stick and strike hard." On the news of 
the February revolution in Paris (p. 207) martial law was 
proclaimed with the consent of the Cortes, which was itself 
dissolved ten days later lest it should put difficulties in the 
way of repressive measures. Narvaez had come to power 
threatening to " shoot Serrano and to kick Bulwer," the 
British ambassador by whom the favourite had been en- 
couraged as an agent of the Progressistas, and he quickly 
sent the former into exile. He had not long to wait 
for an excuse for dealing with the latter, and, when the 
ambassador ventured to publish in a Radical journal a 
note he had sent to the Government demanding the summons 
of a Cortes, he was promptly handed his papers. Meanwhile 
the Carlists had been put down in Catalonia, their old guerilla 
chief Cabrera recrossing the frontier in April, 1849. It even 
proved possible to send an expedition to co-operate with the 
French against the Roman Republic (p. 238). Thanks to 
the strong hand at the helm, Isabel weathered the hurricane 
season which proved fatal to so many thrones. She was 
not on that account grateful. The period of martial law 
closed in October, 1848, and before the year was out the 
Clerical party in the palace induced the Queen to appoint 
a new ministry, whom Narvaez characteristically disregarded 
and put under arrest. But the influence of the confessional 
and the Queen's impatience of control, encouraged by the 
intrigues of her mother, \vere too strong for him, and in 
January, 1851, he resigned. 

He was succeeded by a civilian, Bravo Murillo, honest in 
intention, but of absolutist views and less independent of 

Court influence than his predecessor. Some 
ttmcordat d the OI> der was restored in the finances, and a Concordat 

was at length arranged with Rome, by which 
the Pope agreed to recognise the sales of Church lands already 


effected, in return for concessions including a guarantee of the 
remainder, a property tax to be devoted to the maintenance of 
the clergy and considerable relaxations of State interference. 
The news of Napoleon's coup d'etat renewed political excitement. 
There was even an attempt to assassinate the Queen. The 
minister's methods became more and more drastic, and he 
finally proposed to revise the constitution, so as to bring it 
into harmony with the practice of his own government and 
that of his predecessor. But the army began to show symptoms 
of discontent, and it was in vain that the civilian premier 
threatened " to hang the generals in their own gaudy sashes." 
The Court was alarmed and sacrificed Bravo Murillo (December, 

But it was against the Court itself that public feeling 
was now directed. The Queen's own conduct, and the corrupt 
dealing in railway concessions in which her , L . 
mother was involved, were openly denounced 
in a scurrilous paper called The Bat, and San Luis, who had 
come into power after the collapse of two stop -gap ministries, 
only fanned the rising discontent by the mixture of severity 
and futility which characterised his measures of repression. 

The Moderados were now entirely alienated. One of the 
military chiefs of the party, General O'Donnell, rode out of 
Madrid, and induced a brigade of cavalry to 
declare against the ministers. General Blaser was 
sent against him only to be repulsed at Vicalvaro 
outside the gates of the capital. The success, though trifling, 
prepared the way for a more decisive step by a leader who 
gauged the situation more accurately than O'Donnell. Canovas, 
the future minister of Alfonso XII., saw that the Moderados 
were not strong enough to effect a revolution unaided. With 
the consent of the generals he now made an open bid for the 
support of the Progressistas by the publication in Madrid of 
the " Programme of Manzanares," setting forward a number 
of definite aims upon which all parties could unite in the 
interest of better government. The mob of Madrid rose in arms 
and the provincial towns followed the example of the capital. 

There was only one man in Spain who combined in his 
person the qualities necessary to ride the tempest which had 
been let loose. All eyes were turned to Espartero, 
the hero of the army and the idol of the mob. J^ 
On the news of his approach to Madrid the riots 
ceased. His entry was a triumph in which genuine patriotic 


emotion was freely mingled with the ludicrous ; and a stranger 
might have been forgiven for seeing nothing but pure comedy 
in the commonplace bourgeois figure standing erect in an 
open carriage, and napping outstretched arms, like the wings 
of a huge bird, in a gesture of comprehensive embrace. Next 
day there was more embracing, this time between Espartero 
and the newly arrived O'Donnell, in token of the indissoluble 
union of Progressive and Moderate elements. 

Isabel at once submitted. Power was therefore divided 
in name at least between the two generals, " the barn-door 
fowl " and " the peacock," as they were called, 
Es V artero f and ^ rom ^ ne contrast between Espartero 's underbred 
oi)onneu. an< slovenliness and O'Donnell's fine presence and 
natural dignity of manner. But the immediate 
advantage belonged to Espartero, whose party had made and 
whose influence had quelled the revolution. He might even 
have made himself King. Under his nominal guidance the 
ministry set to work, after a penitent speech from the throne, 
to reward supporters, to expel Cristina, and to draft a brand- 
new Constitution, that of 1855. But the future belonged to 
O'Donnell. He had none of Narvaez's sense of duty, none 
of Espartero's irresolution. A cool and ambitious schemer, 
he set himself to undermine his chief by placing his friends 
in every office, by encouraging the campaign of unfair deprecia- 
tion and humorous ridicule, of which Espartero's vanity and 
indecision made him the butt, and lastly by currying favour 
with the Queen. Isabel was already bitterly offended. She 
had been forced, in spite of her protests and in glaring violation 
of the recent Concordat, to sign a Bill for the further alienation 
of Church lands, and her Clerical advisers had been summarily 
expelled from the palace for encouraging her resistance. 

The crisis was brought on by the report of Escosura, 
Minister of the Interior, on a famine which had been accom- 
panied by riots. The report was a Progressive 
party pamphlet, and as such was challenged by 
O'Donnell, who threatened resignation. Espar- 
tero, having attempted conciliation, appealed to the Queen, 
who summoned all three ministers to her presence. Both 
the disputants declared compromise impossible and tendered 
their resignations. With formal regrets the Queen accepted 
that of Escosura. " Then I must go too," said Espartero. 
The threat did not produce the expected effect, for he was 
no longer indispensable. Isabel replied that O'Donnell 


would not desert her, and the Duke of the Victory was ushered 
out leaving his rival in possession of the field. Yet had he 
known how to be resolute he was not yet beaten. The 
National Militia in Madrid declared for him, and the Cortes called 
upon him to defend their privileges. Either from indecision, or, 
as he afterwards declared, from the belief that the throne would 
be imperilled, he declined to act. He passed out of political 
life to spend the rest of his days in retirement at Logroiio. 

Isabel had not rid herself of Espartero in order to submit 
to O'Donnell. For the moment he was allowed to think 
himself all-powerful, while he played the Queen's 
game by shelving the abortive Constitution of o^DonS and 
1855 and re-issuing that of 1845, by abolishing 
the National Militia, by putting restrictions on the press and 
finally, sorely against his own will, by rescinding the new 
law for the sale of Church property. His usefulness was soon 
exhausted, while his original offence was unforgotten. Narvaez 
reappeared and was ostentatiously singled out for the royal 
favour at a State ball, and O'Donnell made haste to anticipate 
his dismissal by resignation (October, 1856). 

For the third time Narvaez stood like a grim sentinel 
beside the throne, while colleagues more reactionary than 
himself carried out the ideas of the Court ; but 
Isabel, having recovered much lost ground under 
his protection, was alike impatient of his plain 
speaking and ill-disposed to share the odium of his harsh 
measures. She persuaded him to retire in favour of more 
conciliatory leaders. Her position was not so strong as she 
supposed. By June, 1858, there was no alternative to 
O'Donnell, now at the head of a combination calling itself 
the " Liberal Union." 

The patient schemer at last reaped the fruits of his double 
treachery. He was resolved to put no trust in the Queen. 
Aided by a clever party-manager, Posada Herrera, 
he proceeded to fortify his position in the Cortes. gjDonneii and 
Official posts were found for his most dangerous union. 61 
opponents, and care was taken to secure a suffi- 
cient representation of reactionaries and of radicals to put 
the moderate majority on their mettle. Even Isabel was 
appeased for the sale of Church lands by the device of giving 
their value in 3 per cent, bonds to the clergy. Men laughed 
at the ill-assorted " Happy Family " which supported the 


The army was to be given something better to think about 

than political pronunciamentos. Already Spanish troops had 

helped Napoleon in his venture in Cochin China. 

Active ; foreign An ex p edition was now gent to the Spanish 

possessions in West Africa, and war was declared 
against Morocco on the pretence of protecting the Spanish 
settlements at Melilla and Ceuta. Under O'Donnell in person 
a difficult and useless march was executed along the coast from 
Ceuta upon Tetuan, a successful battle being fought at Cas- 
tillejos on the way. Muley el Abbas, the Sultan's brother, 
was driven out of Tetuan, and a victory was won at Wadi-Ras 
on the road to Fez (1860). But Britain had already interposed 
a veto on annexation, and a Carlist descent on Tortosa, 
planned by Ortega, governor of the Balearic Islands, accelerated 
the conclusion of peace. Fortune again favoured O'Donnell. 
Ortega's troops refused to act against the government, and 
Montemolin the pretender fell into the hands of the authorities, 
and only secured his liberty by a solemn renunciation of his 
claims. O'Donnell was free to accept an invitation from 
San Domingo to re-assert Spanish authority over the island, 
and to send General Prim to Mexico to support the action of 
France and England (p. 319). 

But the end was now near. The policy of adventure had 
been costly, and the burden was borne with increasing im- 
patience ; none of the problems of domestic 
neii! f Don government had been attacked ; the savage 
repression of an agrarian revolt in Andalusia 
alienated the popular leaders ; and the rash determination 
to recognise the Kingdom of Italy threw into the scale against 
the ministry all the Queen's devotion to Rome. In February, 
1863, the hollow charlatanism of the Liberal Union stood 
revealed, and O'Donnell fell. 

Yet there were no sounder elements in Spanish public life 
to replace him. Three make-shift ministries rose and fell in 
succession, and in the meanwhile a new and 
alarming symptom made its appearance in the 
body politic. The Progressistas withdrew alto- 
gether from the arena with scarcely veiled allusions to the 
Queen as the " traditional obstacle " to reform. It was too 
clear that they had determined to compass the downfall of 
the throne, and they now had behind them a general of a very 
different calibre to Espartero. Prim, a rough Catalan soldier, 
with the " manner of a sympathetic undertaker," had been 


accustomed to boast somewhat ostentatiously of his loyalty. 
His plebeian sensitiveness had not been proof against a vulgar 
insult. One day on leaving the royal presence he had caught 
sight in a mirror of Isabel, with her thumb set against her nose 
extending her fingers in a most unqueenly gesture behind his 
back. From that moment he set himself with untiring perti- 
nacity to excite rebellion in the army, and when the country 
became too hot to hold him, continued his efforts by means 
of manifestoes and repeated descents across the frontier and 
upon the coast towns. 

Amid ominous signs of impending dissolution at home, 
and an unnecessary war against Chili and Peru abroad, the 
Court, more than ever under Clerical influence, 
held on its way. Narvaez was called to power f 
to maintain order, but removed in two months 
to allay the odium excited by the suppression of a students' 
riot on the night of St. Daniel. O'Donnell, summoned to 
conciliate public feeling, held office for a year, but was unable, 
owing to Prim's machinations, to maintain the conciliatory 
attitude. A savage mutiny of discontented artillery sergeants, 
who shot down their officers and were suppressed with equal 
savagery, decided Isabel that his further retention of office 
was inadvisable. He withdrew in deep disgust, and his 
withdrawal and subsequent death in 1867 proved fatal. 
The Moderate party were now decisively alienated, and owing 
to the abstention of the Progressistas the only possible alter- 
native was Narvaez. But the day had past when his favourite 
expedient of a dictatorship was able to restore order, and his 
supporters were all men who desired the permanence of 
measures which he, to his credit, had always regarded as 
temporary. For two years the gallant old soldier struggled 
on, and died in April, 1868, leaving his coadjutor and successor 
Gonzalez Bravo to ruin the monarchy. 

This rash civilian proceeded to challenge the military 
power which had so often saved the throne. Well aware of 
the disaffection of the generals of the Liberal 
Union party he had them all arrested and banished 
to the Canaries. At Cadiz they succeeded in winning the 
adhesion of Admiral Topete, who commanded the fleet. To 
the same spot Prim was already hastening, and on his arrival 
the squadron declared against the Queen and occupied Cadiz. 
Meanwhile Serrano, with his fellow generals, was on his way 
back from his place of exile, and as soon as he landed took 


command of the troops which were to march on Madrid. At 
Alcolea, in the Guadalquivir valley, he overthrew Novaliches, 
who had been sent against him, and occupied Madrid, which 
had already declared for the revolution, without striking another 
blow. On September 30, 1868, Isabel fled across the Bidassoa 
into France. 

Serrano, under the title of Regent, assumed the leadership 
of a provisional government with Prim as his right-hand man. 
Both had decided for a constitutional monarchy, 
th a e n Thr a onl f r and nad little trouble in convincing the Con- 
stituent Cortes ; but it was difficult to find a 
candidate. Of the royal family Alfonso, Isabel's son, was 
too young, the Duke of Seville had been shot in a duel by 
the Duke of Montpensier, whose own constant intrigues 
against his sister-in-law's throne made him unacceptable. 
The Carlist princes were excluded by their opinions. The 
thoughts of many Spaniards turned to Espartero, who might 
now have inaugurated a bourgeois monarchy. But he refused 
to allow his name to be submitted. Foreign princes were 
approached and proved extremely shy. Luiz of Portugal, 
who in 1861 had succeeded his brother Pedro V (1853), son 
of Maria da Gloria (p. 150), and of Ferdinand of Saxe Coburg, 
resolutely held back in face of his subjects' unwillingness to 
be absorbed in Spain. Ferdinand himself was equally unwill- 
ing. The application to Prince Leopold of Hohenzollern- 
Sigmaringen had no other result than to kindle the Franco- 
Prussian war. Finally, with immense difficulty, Amadeo, 
second son of Victor Emmanuel, was induced to accept the 
crown (1870). 

Three days before the new King landed in Spain, the only 
man who could have secured him a fair chance of success 
had been removed by death. As Prim was 
Amadeo f driving home on a snowy night through the 
streets of Madrid he was shot through the window 
of his carriage by the hand of an unknown assassin. Amadeo 
was thus thrown on his own resources. Brave, conscientious, 
and possessed of a remarkable charm of manner, the young 
King had firmly resolved to maintain among his new subjects 
the traditional principles of his house. But the moderation, 
the deference to the popular will and the strict fidelity to the 
royal word which had won Italian hearts for Victor Emmanuel 
were wasted upon Spain. The clergy stood aloof from the 
son of the despoiler of the Church ; the nobility treated the 


King and Queen with insolence or open neglect ; an attempt 
was even made on Amadeo's life. Carlists and Republicans 
banded together in the Cortes to defeat the Constitutional 
party, while the Constitutionalists themselves were divided 
between the followings of Sagasta and Zorrilla. 

To add to the troubles of the new regime, a dangerous 
Carlist rising was in progress in the North. The carlists 
were now under a new chief. Shortly after the Carlistrisin 
fiasco at Tortosa, Montemolin and his second 
brother Fernando had died, and Juan, the third of the sons 
of the original claimant, became the representative of preten- 
sions which he declared had already passed to himself in virtue 
of the renunciation of his elders. He had, however, shown 
a disposition to compromise with the ideas of the time very 
offensive to his party, and had even made overtures for sub- 
mission to Isabel. His supporters accordingly set him aside 
and adopted his son Carlos Maria as their chief. Great efforts 
were made to induce Cabrera to put himself at the head 
of a rising, but the veteran's conditions were too exacting, 
and Carlos entered Navarre without him, only to be defeated 
at Oroquieta and to be obliged to withdraw under the Conven- 
tion of Amoravieta. 

But the Convention added nothing to the strength of the 
government. The new dynasty commanded no real support, 
and its position was frankly impossible. Amadeo 
only awaited a pretext to extricate himself, and abd?<Ses. 
found it in the disregard shown by his ministers 
for his unwillingness to order the dismissal of some insubordi- 
nate officers. He yielded to their opinion and immediately 
abdicated (February, 1873). 

The abdication of Amadeo inaugurated a year of confusion 
unparalleled even in the stormy annals of modern Spain. 
A Republic was hastily proclaimed, and Figueras, 
an unpractical philanthropist, was chosen Pre- The Republic 

.j , r , r . * T- and the Federal 

sident, only to give way in a tew weeks to r\ y movement. 
Margall. The new head of the State was a 
Federalist, and believed in reducing Spain to a loose confedera- 
tion of self-governing cities and districts. But while he and 
his advisers were endeavouring to secure their position at 
Madrid, their ideas were acted upon in desperate earnest 
by the great cities of the south. Malaga led the way, and at 
Seville, Cadiz, Granada, and Cartagena scenes of anarchy and 
bloodshed were enacted by the self-styled " Cantonalists." 


At the last-named place the fleet caught the infection, and 
ranged along the coast spreading revolution by the threat 
of bombardment, till the government, by declaring them 
pirates, gave the British squadron an excuse for turning the 
crews ashore and towing the ships into Gibraltar. 

Salmeron, a Republican but no Federalist, now became Presi- 
dent. He was fully determined to restore order, and sent General 
Pa via to Andalusia. Seville, Cadiz, and Granada 
nad already submitted to his vigorous measures, 
when Salmeron, intensely suspicious of military 
authority, put a stop to his progress. The final subjugation 
of Malaga and Cartagena was deferred till Castelar succeeded 
Salmeron, and ordered Pavia to advance. The bitter ex- 
perience of a few months had taught him the futility of his 
earlier visions of an orderly and prosperous republic, and he 
set himself, in a spirit worthy of Narvaez, to reorganise the 
army and to combat the existing anarchy. 

The Carlists were up again in the north. In Catalonia 

the war had never ceased, and Dorregaray was recovering the 

Basque country for the pretender. This renewal 

The Carlists. u ,. ., J . , f , T , , ,, 

ol activity was a mistake. .Nocedal, the wisest 
adviser of the party, had urged them to wait till republican 
federalism and anti-militarism left Spain a defenceless prey. 
Yet a resolute advance might, at the outset, have carried 
them to Madrid. The opportunity was neglected, and their 
energies were devoted to subduing the country behind the 
Ebro. It was soon too late. 

Castelar had played the dictator to some purpose, but had 
incurred in the process the inevitable penalty of unpopularity. 

The Cortes determined to put an end to his 
Castelar, and authority by a vote of censure. The result was 
dS as<OM3> a surprising scene. General Pavia, acting upon 

his own authority, surrounded the House, and 
like a second Cromwell, forced the protesting deputies to 
disperse. Bitter was his disappointment when he found that 
Castelar was not prepared to take advantage of his blundering 

Serrano thereupon became President. He was scarcely ap- 
pointed when he had to go north to relieve Bilbao. Checked 

at Sommorostro he called up all the resources which 
dent an presi his government could secure him, and turned the 

enemy's positions. But the success was more 
than neutralised by a Carlist victory over Concha at Abarzuzi 


and the struggle still dragged on. Suddenly when winter 
had already set in, Serrano began to display feverish anxiety 
to end the war at all costs. He was again in the north when 
a new and decisive turn was given to events. 

Canovas, the most clear-sighted of the supporters of 
O'Donnell, had held himself aloof and awaited the 
moment for pressing the claims of Alfonso. His 
plan Avas to give the Republic enough rope to 
entangle itself past extrication. The failure of 
every other party was daily attracting supporters to his own. 
The time had now come, and the progress of the movement 
both in the country and in the army was no secret. It was 
the knowledge of what was preparing that had roused Serrano 
to a last attempt to anticipate it by a military success. No 
sooner was his back turned than a manifesto appeared at 
Madrid in the name of Alfonso. There was indeed little that 
was promising or attractive in the insignificant and mean- 
looking youth of sixteen who Avas undergoing a military 
training at Sandhurst, but, like the central figure of many 
another restoration, he was necessary to his country. 

Canovas Avould haA r e postponed the issue still longer, but 
among the Alfonsist generals the fear of Serrano's success 
and the desire to play the part of Monk precipi- 
tated events. At Murviedro, on December 24, Pronuntiamento 
1874, General Martinez Campos proclaimed Campos! 062 
Alfonso, and the result could no longer be doubtful 
Avheii Primo de Rivera, Minister of War at Madrid, turned 
against the President to whom he owed e\ r ery thing. Serrano's 
troops refused to march against the capital, and he was quietly 

The King landed at Barcelona in January, 1875, and the 
Avise moderation of Canovas rallied men of the most divergent 
views to his cause. Carlism withered when it A i fongo XII 
stood no longer for order against anarchical 
republicanism, but for worn-out theories of authority and for 
the separatist aspirations of the northern provinces. Gradually 
the area of the aimless guerilla war was restricted, and in 
February, 1876, Carlos retired across the frontier. Two months 
later Canovas met a Cortes elected by universal suffrage with 
the draft of the Constitution of 1876. Parliamentary govern- 
ment was established, authority being vested in two houses, a 
Senate containing hereditary, nominated, and elective elements, 
and a Congress elected on a limited suffrage. Difficulties were 



plentiful, with Rome, with Cuba, and with the northern 
provinces owing to the inevitable abolition of their fueros. 
But the anarchy of thirty years was at least ended, and 
the death of Queen Cristina and of Espartero in 1878 
appropriately closed a chapter in the history of Spain. 



THROUGH the Treaty of Paris of 1856, by which the Crimean 
War was brought to a conclusion, Turkey gained a new 
position in Europe, and Europe a new relation 
collectively with Turkey. The Ottoman Empire 
was formally admitted as a member of the European 
system, from which it had been implicitly excluded by the 
Treaty of Vienna, while the privileges of the Principalities were 
placed under the joint guarantee of the Powers. More- 
over, there was embodied in the treaty a decree of the Sultan 
which extended the fullest religious freedom to his Christian 
subjects ; and, inasmuch as Russia now surrendered her 
ancient claim to exercise an undefined protectorate over their 
interests, it became the business of Europe at large, notwith- 
standing the formal disclaimer of any collective authority over 
the Porte, to see at least that the obligations of the treaty 
were respected. 

These obligations the supine and self-indulgent Abdul Aziz 
had made no effort to fulfil. Indeed, the worst grievances 
were so much a part of Turkish methods of 
government as to be practically ineradicable. ^^ ish mis " 
The system of tax-farming placed the cultivator 
at the mercy of "extortionate middlemen whose sole object 
was personal profit, while the defenceless status of a Christian 
in the law courts, where the evidence of his co-religionists 
was systematically refused, deprived the oppressed of their 
recognised refuge from the oppressor. An outbreak in the 
Lebanon district had already occurred in 1862, which had 
occasioned the interference of the Emperor of the French. 
Nor was the treaty respected in other quarters. In 1870, 
profiting by the crisis of the Franco -Prussian war, Russia 
denounced the clauses which restrained her from establishing 
an arsenal or a fleet in the Black Sea, and secured the unwilling 
concurrence of Europe. 


But serious trouble did not begin till 1875. In that year, 
after a bad harvest, an outbreak began against the combined 
exactions of the tax-farmers and of the Turkish 
Herzegovina, landowners in the mountain land of Herzegovina. 
The rural population were all of Servian blood, 
though a considerable proportion had accepted the Moslem 
faith, and their struggles were accordingly watched with a 
sympathy, which no pains were taken to conceal, by the two 
kindred principalities to north and south, which acknowledged 
the suzerainty of the Sultan. Of these Servia was governed 
by Prince Milan (p. 276), a man of ambitious temper but of a 
low-bred and ill-disciplined character thinly veneered over by 
a course of study and dissipation in Paris ; while Montenegro 
obeyed the patriarchal rule of Prince Nicholas, who combined 
in his singular personality the attributes of poet, statesman, 
and mountain chief. It was the ambition of each prince alike 
to revive the ancient kingdom of the fourteenth century which 
had embraced all the Servian lands, and neither could afford 
to disregard for long the struggles of a people whom he hoped 
to absorb. Every form of unofficial help and encouragement 
was afforded to the rising. Opinion in Russia was profoundly 
moved. The ideal of a great Slavonic union had long exercised 
a powerful attraction. A stream of Russian volunteers, pro- 
vided with assistance of a more material kind, began to find 
its way into the revolted province. The outbreak grew into 
a rebellion, and spread rapidly northwards over Bosnia. 

At this point Austria, alarmed for the safety of her own 
Slavonic dominions on the Adriatic, interposed. The under- 
\udrass Note. stanc *ing between the three Emperors, already 
noticed (p. 358), entitled her to make overtures 
to her neighbours for common action. Her Chancellor, 
Andrassy, had no difficulty in agreeing with Bismarck and 
Gortchakoff on a note to be presented to the Sultan (afterwards 
known as the Andrassy Note) demanding for the affected 
districts real religious liberty, the abolition of the system of tax- 
farming, and guarantees for the cultivators against the tyranny 
of their landlords, the whole programme to be put in operation 
through a mixed commission of Christians and Moslems. 

The presentation of these demands was delayed in deference 
to the objections of Disraeli, Prime Minister of England since 

BritishatMtude. 18 '*> who Ur 8 ed u P n the three Powers that any 

action was inopportune till the Porte had been 

given time to execute certain promises of reform only recently 


issued. The suggestion was not in itself unreasonable, but it 
afterwards transpired that the British Government had 
advised the Sultan to lose no time in suppressing the outbreak, 
and subsequent events leave no room for doubt that the action 
of Great Britain was not primarily dictated by a wish to 
promote the cause of reform within the Turkish dominions. 
England, under her versatile Premier, was preparing to make a 
capital blunder in foreign politics, and one which was to cost 
her dear. 

The limits of our subject prevent us from tracing the 
growth of the British Colonial Empire. It is sufficient here to 
point out that the events of the Indian Mutiny, Jm erlaligm 
together with the immense development of 
Canada and of the Australasian settlements, which had taken 
place between the thirties and the sixties, had effected a great 
change in public opinion. It was no longer the fashion to 
regard the colonies as inconvenient encumbrances which in 
process of time would separate from the mother country to 
the advantage of both. Here, as in so many other cases, 
material improvements had produced a revulsion of sentiment. 
The steamship and the oceanic cable had brought with them a 
better knowledge of the oversea dominions, and had increased 
their commercial value. Pride of possession began to replace 
the indifference of ignorance. With this feeling there blended 
another of curiously different origin. As a foreign minister, 
Lord Palmerston had possessed many faults, but his policy 
had appealed powerfully to British imagination, not least by 
its somewhat hectoring assertion of national interests, and by 
the disdainful pose of isolated superiority with which it sur- 
veyed and sometimes even condescended to take a part in 
European quarrels. Since Palmerston's death the influence 
of England abroad had counted for little. Her views had not 
been regarded in the great questions which had found their 
solution in 1870. She had, indeed, expressed none. The 
extension of the franchise had occupied her thoughts during 
the middle sixties ; and the Gladstone ministry, which had 
taken office in 1868, were absorbed in questions of domestic 
reform. There were not a few who wished to hear the Foreign 
Office resume its earlier tones. Of the union of these elements 
modern Imperialism was born. It rests upon a reasoned appre- 
ciation of the advantages and obligations attaching to oversea 
possessions ; it is strong for the assertion of national interests ; 
it has evolved out of its later experiences a binding code of 


duty and its besetting sins are still Palmerstonian, a tendency 
to isolation and to a certain noisy assertiveness. 

The Imperial ideal was exactly calculated to harmonise 
with Disraeli's temperament. It addressed a compelling 
appeal alike to the strong and to the weaker sides 
of his nature. It filled his eager imagination with 
new visions of the national destiny almost, 
unlimited in scope, while it ministered to his half Oriental taste- 
for magnificence and display. The practical methods of the 
new creed were no less alluring than its more distant dreams. 
Its rigid devotion to British material interests satisfied a 
humorous cynicism impatient of the political and moral 
abstractions so dear to his opponents. Finally, Disraeli was 
engaged in rebuilding a shattered party, and could afford to 
neglect nothing that promised to substitute living enthusiasm 
for the cold negations of mere conservatism. 

Yet with all his acuteness the genius of Disraeli lay rather 
in the direction of adaptation than of creative effort, and, while 
he suffused his foreign policy with the new spirit, its aims and 
its principles were alike traditional. Among all the fixtures 
at the Foreign Office none was more massive and immovable 
than suspicion of Russia. We have seen how, twice over in 
the century, this suspicion had stood between England and an 
understanding which might have averted deplorable con- 
sequences (pp. 89, 266), and it had at last succeeded in 
creating a prejudice upon the other side ; while the dangers of 
the Indian Mutiny and the Russian advances in Central Asia, 
to be noticed in the next chapter, had deepened the original 
distrust. Disraeli, with the majority of the Englishmen of 
his time, believed that the ultimate goal of Russian policy was 
the valley of the Indus, an opinion at least arguable. He saw 
that, given such a design, the establishment of effective 
Russian control over the Bosphorws and the Dardanelles 
would enable the Russian sea-power to menace Britain's new 
line of communication with India by the Suez Canal (p. 424) 
a proposition that admits of no dispute. And he arrived at 
the deliberate conclusion that England's interests could be 
best defended by the maintenance of the integrity of Turkey, 
and by a steady resistance at all points to Russia's policy in 
the Nearer East. Events were to prove that the conception 
was essentially unsound. The maintenance of Turkey implied 
the reformation of her government, to the scandals of which 
Europe could not remain insensible, Of such reformation 


there was no reasonable chance. Lord Salisbury could say 
in after years with perfect truth that England " had backed 
the wrong horse." There can be little doubt that if danger 
there was from Russia it would have been best met by such 
collective action on the part of the Powers as would have 
prevented her separate interference. 

The Andrassy note was an effort in the right direction, and, 
while Disraeli's disapproval was a plain invitation to the Sultan 
to lean on English support in view of still distant 
eventualities, Britain could offer no further ob- Jff 6 of the 
jection to its presentation when the Forte's own 
programme proved as illusory as it had in fact been intended 
to be. The note was accordingly presented and was accepted 
without protest by Abdul Aziz, for its acceptance merely sub- 
stituted one set of promises for another, which it would be 
quite as easy to disregard, since no provision for coercive 
measures was attached to it. The omission was not unnoticed 
by the Bosnian leaders, who declined to abandon their 
defiant attitude, and meanwhile the situation was becoming 
every day more strained. Servia and Montenegro could 
not long be held back, while on the other side an ominous 
symptom of rising Moslem fanaticism had already made its 
appearance in an anti-Christian riot at Salonica. 

Under these circumstances the three contracting Powers 
decided upon stronger action. A memorandum was drafted 
at Berlin demanding an immediate armistice for 
two months, the withdrawal of the Turkish 
troops from the revolted districts, and the execu- 
tion of the promised reforms under the supervision of the 
foreign consuls. It concluded with a plain threat of coercion 
if by the end of two months the demands remained unsatisfied. 
Copies of the memorandum were circulated for the approval of 
the other Powers. France and Italy unhesitatingly endorsed 
it. England replied with an uncompromising negative, and, 
to the astonishment of Europe, ordered her fleet to Besika Bay 
at the outlet of the Dardanelles. It was a deliberate encourage- 
ment to the Sultan to refuse concessions, and as such it was 
understood. Collective action was now doomed to failure, and 
the " Berlin Memorandum " was never presented. 

Meanwhile the successes of the despised rayahs and the 
pressure exercised by the Powers had served to rouse Turkish 
national feeling. The patriotism of the Turk is deep-seated, 
and burns hotly when kindled, but its manifestations have 


never been such as to win the sympathies of other nations ; 
for it has proved inseparable from a fanaticism of creed 

attended by barbarities which have shocked the 
Constantinople, civilised world. This strange and sinister blend 

of hatred and devotion was now stirring in 
Moslem veins, and took effect in the first instance against 
the incompetent Sultan who had just crowned his career of 
selfishness and extravagance by the repudiation of the debts 
of the State. Fired by a group of idealist reformers who 
called themselves the " Young Turks," the softas, or divinity 
students, of the capital broke into fierce rioting, and forced the 
Sultan to replace his Grand Vizier by a successor of strongly 
nationalist views. The new adviser of Abdul Aziz began his 
" reforms " at the top by deposing his master. The unhappy 
Sultan took his own life by opening his veins with a pair of 
scissors. MuradV was substituted for hisuncle, only to give place 
within a few days to his own brother, Abdul Hamid II, for failing 
to display the qualities required of him by his counsellors. 

Such were the events which carried to power one whom 
nature had formed from the stuff of which tyrants are made ; 

whose long saturnine cast of countenance and 
Hamid ii. narrow brow testified to the suspicious exacting 

disposition, which, seconded by a singular craft 
and capacity for detail, enabled him to bind his provinces to 
his feet by means of the railway and the telegraph, to play 
upon all the passions of Mohammedan fanaticism and to defy 
with impunity the general conscience of Europe. 

Three months before he ascended the throne the growing 
excitement had found an outlet more terrible than in palace 

revolutions. Early in May symptoms of unrest 
at h roS arian had appeared in a new district. The Bulgarians 

were as yet scarcely known to Europe. A people 
of Asiatic origin, akin to the Turks themselves, they had 
derived their name from the Volga, on whose banks they had 
sojourned till the days of the later Roman Empire, and had 
brought with them to their new seats on either side of the 
Balkan chain a language and a set of national characteristics 
entirely Slavonic. At one time the scourge of the Eastern 
Empire, they had dwindled into insignificance, and their 
separate existence had but recently been recognised by their 
Turkish masters in the grant of an independent national 
religious organisation under an Exarch of their own (1870). 
The Bulgarian movements of 1876 were trifling. There had 


been some rioting and a few murders of unpopular officials. 
But Turkish fears were already thoroughly roused, and regular 
troops, and, what was worse, swarms of irregular Bashi- 
Bazouks, were sent into the provinces. To the latter are 
mainly to be attributed the indescribable horrors which 
followed. Whole villages disappeared before a storm of 
cruelty in which every foul and fiendish passion that can 
pervert human nature played its part. At the little town 
of Batak 2000 only out of a population of 7000 escaped 
alive. The remainder had fallen by the lance and the 
sword, or had perished in the flames of the church and the 

The massacres put the British government in an odious 
position. But for British opposition the Powers would 
already have applied coercion ; but for the hope 
of British support Turkey would not have dared 
to defy their anger. It was in vain that Disraeli, 
supported by a section of the press, strove to discredit the 
terrible reports. As further facts came to light the more 
certainly was their essential truth established. Gladstone 
emerged from his retirement, and both in a pamphlet entitled 
" Bulgarian Atrocities," and before crowded public meetings, 
denounced Turk and Tory alike. It must be admitted that 
his strictures upon the latter were not undeserved. A great 
revulsion of feeling passed over public opinion, and, even had 
the ministry desired it, there was no longer any danger of 
England's protecting the delinquent Power from the con- 
sequences of its acts. 

In the meantime, Servia and Montenegro had rushed into 
the fray, and although the former had secured the services of 
a Russian general, were soon themselves exposed 
to the peril of Turkish invasion. Accordingly, Alexander n. 
Russia secured a pledge of Austrian neutrality, 
Bismarck preferring to stand aloof from so indefinite an engage- 
ment, and proceeded by threats to impose upon the Turks an 
armistice, which Britain had already failed to secure by 
friendly representations. But Alexander II had no wish for 
war either with Turkey or Great Britain. To the ambassador 
of the latter Power he gave a solemn assurance that he had no 
designs against Constantinople, while declaring in plain terms 
that if Europe could not save the situation he should find him- 
self forced to act alone. For the moment there seemed to be 
good hope of the more peaceful alternative, England having 


suggested a Conference at Constantinople. But a bellicose 
speech by Disraeli, now Lord Beaconsfield, at a Guildhall 
banquet inspired some anxiety, and impelled the Czar to define 
more clearly his intention to act in default of a peaceable 

Nevertheless, when the Conference met, a very gratifying 

unanimity of opinion was evident. Lord Salisbury joined the 

other envoys in demanding that there should be 

The conference some "external guarantees" attached to any 

and the Turkish m i i 1,1 , -i > f -n t 

Constitution. lurkish promises, and the introduction 01 .Belgian 
troops was discussed. The slipperiness of the 
Porte seemed at last to be of no avail in the grip of a common 
purpose. But Abdul Hamid was not at the end of his 
resources. Suddenly he summoned Midhat Pasha, and made 
him Grand Vizier. His new adviser was the leader of the more 
enlightened section of the " Young Turk " party. He was a 
theorist with a firm belief in the curative power of Con- 
stitutional government even for the chronic diseases of the 
" Sick Man of Europe." Under his auspices a Constitution 
was proclaimed of a highly democratic type, the proposals of 
the Powers were politely repelled, and they were invited to 
expect the immediate advent of a golden age, in which Moslem 
and Christian, now placed on equal terms, would compromise 
their differences without external assistance. The Conference 
broke up in despair (January, 1877). Of the perfect sincerity 
of Midhat there can be no doubt. But he had now served his 
purpose. Early in February he was arrested and deported to 
Italy, and his Parliament only met in March to disappear upon 
the outbreak of the war. Midhat did not long survive his 
creation. Five years later he was decoyed back to Constanti- 
nople and put to death on a charge of complicity in the 
alleged murder of Abdul Aziz. 

Very unwillingly the Czar now set about the fulfilment of 
his pledge. A final treaty with Austria secured her neutrality 
at the price of concessions which denied to 
Russia any hope of private advantage from the 
war. The Czar would perhaps have preferred an 
understanding with Germany, since she had no special 
interests to protect and her support would have check-mated 
Austria. But Bismarck again held aloof. He saw clearly that 
any reconstitution of the Balkan peninsula must give rise to dis- 
putes between the two other Eastern Powers, and did not wish 
to find himself obliged to make a choice between them. One 


more effort Alexander made for peace. Even Lord Beacons- 
field was induced to sign a London Protocol summoning the 
Porte to execute its promises of reform and hinting un- 
mistakably at coercion. But by this time Abdul Hamid had 
lost his sense of proportion, and defied advice. No voice could 
reasonably be raised against the Czar if he now proceeded to 
declare war. Yet, when the declaration at last came, in the 
middle of April, 1877, the British government signified their 
disapproval. The assurance of the Czar that neither Egypt, 
the Suez Canal, nor Constantinople was affected by his plans 
succeeded however in silencing a ministry who were now much 
divided among themselves. 

The Russians decided to operate simultaneously on the 
Armenian frontier and upon the Danube, to which river they 
had unhindered access, thanks to a convention 
concluded with Roumania, whose ruler had taken 
the opportunity to declare his independence of 
Turkish suzerainty. But at this point difficulties began for the 
Russian army under the Grand Duke Nicholas . The Roumanian 
railways were inadequate, organisation was bad, supplies, 
owing to the fraudulent understanding existing between con- 
tractors and not a few of the officers employed upon the staff, 
were deficient in quantity and quality. And when at last 
an advance was possible, the Danube proved a formidable 
military obstacle. 

The advantages of the defence did not lie solely in the 
Turkish gunboats which patrolled the river, nor in the high 
ground, which bordered the southern bank and 
commanded the wide stretch of level over which 
the stream was approached from the north. A 
quadrilateral of four strong fortresses, Varna, Silistria, Rust- 
chuk, and Shumla, eastward of the Russian positions opposite 
Sistova, dominated the country between the Danube and 
the Balkan ranges which lay parallel to its course. Further 
to the west, on the river itself, a formidable Turkish garrison, 
under Osman Pasha, held the fortifications of Widdin. It 
was therefore tolerably clear that any Russian force which 
succeeded in crossing was exposed to serious risks. Barring 
their line of advance towered the most difficult section of 
the mountain rampart of the Balkans, all the easier passes 
being covered by the Turkish fortresses to east and west. 
And, while the invaders essayed to force the more formidable 
central defiles, it was open to the garrisons of Shumla, Rustchuk, 


and Widdin to close in upon their flanks and rear, or at 
least to sever their communications. Such was, in fact, 
the perfectly sound conception of the Turkish commander- 
in-chief, Abdul Kerim, and his plans only failed of success 
because the Russian leaders were superior to their opponents 
in enterprise. 

By the end of June the Russians had disposed of the gun- 
boats, and had passed a large force across the Danube near 
Galatz, just above the Delta, which, occupying 
DanSbe. f the the Dobrudscha district north-east of the Quadri- 
lateral, served to distract the attention of the 
Turkish garrisons. No sooner had this movement been effected 
than the first troops of the main advance, under General 
Dragomiroff, succeeded in crossing by night from a point 
opposite Sistova, and in establishing a footing on the southern 
bank after a hard day's fighting. A pontoon bridge was 
thrown across the Danube, and, within a fortnight, the 
occupation of Biela to the east, and of Nicopolis to the west, 
secured the invaders against immediate peril from their flanks, 
while the operations were in progress which pierced the 
defences of the Balkans. 

The formidable mountain barrier was carried by the dashing 
tactics of General Gurko, commanding the advance guard. 
Having occupied Tirnova, he learned that the 
BaSL f the Shipka Pass to the south was held in force, and 
that the Turks were making efforts with inadequate 
numbers to cover the other practicable roads further to the 
east. At this juncture an intelligence officer who accompanied 
the column discovered that one of the passes, the Khainkoi, 
had a reputation for being impracticable, which local opinion 
did not altogether bear out. He accordingly explored it, 
found it unprotected save for a detachment of 300 men on 
the far side, and satisfied himself that with a little simple 
engineering it would permit the passage of light guns. Gurko 
at once determined to make the attempt. Every difficulty 
was surmounted by the willing efforts of his men, the covering 
party were driven off, a reinforcement from the Shipka was 
scattered, and, having deceived the enemy by feints towards 
the south, the little column attacked the defenders of the 
Shipka from behind and drove them up to the crown of the 
pass. Here, assailed from both sides and cut off from supplies, 
the Turks dispersed over the hills, leaving the Russians in 
possession of the main road to the south. 


This sudden turn of events struck terror into the Sultan, 
and his advisers. Mehemet Ali replaced Abdul Kerini in the 
Quadrilateral, and Suleiman Pasha was directed 
to hurry all available troops up to the Balkans. pece. ectsof 
But Alexander had no wish to push his successes 
further. Enough seemed to have been done to bring Abdul 
Hamid to his senses, and the Czar had opened negotiations 
with Britain with a view to engaging her mediation, when 
a sudden reversal of fortune revived the courage of the 

Osman Pasha, commander of the garrison at Widdin, a 
stern, self-contained soldier and a born leader of men, had 
moved forward too late to save Nicopolis from plevna 
the Russians. But with unerring instinct he 
fixed upon Plevna as a position from which he could at once 
threaten the enemy's communications on the Danube and 
maintain his own connections with the south by means of the 
western passes of the Balkans. Covered on the west by the 
abrupt depression of the river Wid, and to the east by a girdle 
of open hills well adapted for the construction of entrenchments, 
the little town was soon converted into a first-class fortress. 
The Russians had already been warned of the importance of 
the position, but made their attempt to secure it too late. 
Osman was already in possession, and they were forced to 
retire with considerable loss. Accordingly, General Kriidener 
received orders to attack forthwith, and eject the intruder. 
The result was a serious disaster. Ignorant of the position of 
the entrenchments, the Russians made an ill-combined attack 
from two points, advancing over an open glacis exposed to a 
murderous musketry fire, and drew off with the loss of some- 
thing like a quarter of their numbers. 

The success of the invasion now hung upon a hair. Had 
Suleiman, instead of hammering at the central passes of the 
Balkans, carried his whole force round the enemy's 
flank to the assistance either of Osman or of jKian Army. 
Mehemet Ali, who was attacking Biela, had even 
Osman alone abandoned the defensive, the Russian com- 
munications must have been cut, and their whole army 
captured or thrust across the Danube. The opportunity was 
let slip. Reinforcements began to arrive from the north ; the 
assistance of the Roumanian army, which had hitherto 
remained inactive owing to Prince Charles' refusal to place it 
under the direct control of the Russian commander-in-chief, 


was gladly welcomed on its own terms, and Prince Imeritinski 
was instructed to make a third attempt on Plevna. 

But the influence which inspired two of the fiercest days of 
battle that the century had yet seen was that of the youthful 
General Skobeleff, whose name was to become a 
ta k ck on pievna. household word in England as that of one of her 
most determined foes. His open manner and 
splendid physique proclaimed the man of action, and in his 
character the soldier spirit was incarnate. Amid the perils 
and hardships of campaigning in Central Asia no heart was 
lighter than his, and in the thick of battle he was as it were 
transfigured. The common soldiers, who adored him, looked 
forward to the day when they should follow the " White 
General " to the Ganges. He had already cut Osman's con- 
nection with the Balkans by the capture of Lovtcha. But in 
vain did he hurl line after line against Osman's works ; in vain, 
grimed with powder and waving his shattered sword, did he 
head the rush of storiners which carried the Kavanlik redoubt. 
The Russians were thrust back again and succeeded in pene- 
trating at no other single point. It was a lesson in the deadly 
effect of modern infantry fire. 

The Grand Duke Nicholas urged a retirement across the 
Danube, and only the determination of Alexander kept the 
Russian troops in their places. But Osman, with 
his half -trained irregulars/still hesitated to take 
the field, and General Todleben, the defender of 
Sebastopol, was summoned to do with the spade at Plevna what 
Skobeleff had failed to effect with the bayonet. By the end of 
October the circumvallation was complete, and in December 
the supplies of the besieged were exhausted. Osman made a 
gallant effort to cut his way out across the Wid, and was forced 
by superior numbers to lay down his arms. It seems that the 
Sultan had refused to permit a retirement while it could have 
been safely effected. At least, the garrison in its well-chosen 
position had paralysed the Russian army for six months. 

The Turkish resistance under the direction of Suleiman, who 
had replaced Mehemet Ali as commander-in-chief , now finally 
collapsed. The passes of the Balkans were once 
more cleared, Sofia was occupied, and the main 
Ottoman army was severely defeated near Philip- 
popolis. Before the end of January the Russians had entered 
Adrianople. On the Armenian frontier General Loris Melikoff, 
after a campaign whose results had long been doubtful, had 


taken Kars. Servia and Montenegro had declared war afresh, 
the former winning three successive victories, the latter laying 
hands upon the coveted coast-line about Dulcigno. Thessaly 
was in rebellion, and a new Greek Cabinet under Admiral 
Kanaris (p. 83) was preparing to take advantage of the oppor- 
tunity for the rectification of the Hellenic frontier. 

The Turkish Empire appeared to be in the throes of dis- 
solution, and Constantinople lay at the mercy of the invaders. 
It was well known that the intentions of the 
Russian military party were by no means limited 
to the objects originally defined by the Czar, and 
public opinion in England veered decisively round. The 
Beaconsfield ministry strengthened by the justifiable alarm 
of the country, but weakened by its own internal divisions 
(Lord Carnarvon and Lord Derby being altogether averse from 
war), prepared to play an active part in the denouement. 
Amid an active exchange of questions and assurances the 
Russian troops were advanced to San Stefano, a position com- 
manding Constantinople, while Beaconsfield, having obtained 
a vote of credit from Parliament, moved a British squadron 
into the Sea of Marmora to a station off the island of Prinkipo 
within sight of the Russian lines. 

War seemed imminent when the action of a third Power 
relieved the situation. Austria had good reasons for doubting 
whether Russia in her hour of victory would 
observe the self-restraint which she had promised. Austria pro- 
Indeed, the conditions she proposed to exact had geS. 
already leaked out. Accordingly, Francis Joseph 
took the precautionary step of mobilising his army, and came 
forward with the suggestion of a European Congress to assemble 
at Berlin. The geographical position of Austria made her 
action decisive, and none knew better than Alexander how pre- 
carious was the fortune which had turned disaster into victory. 

The proposal was accepted, but in the meanwhile an 
attempt was made to anticipate the interference of the Powers 
and to strengthen the hands of Russia by securing 
the submission of the Turks. Accordingly, a 
treaty was signed at San Stefano to the following 
effect. First : A new State of Bulgaria was to be constituted 
under Turkish suzerainty, including within its boundaries the 
whole area between the Danube, the Black Sea, the ^Egean, 
and the Albanian Mountains, except the Turkish districts 
reaching from Adrianople to the shores of the Bosphorus and 


the Dardanelles . By this arrangement Turkey would only ha vc 
retained in full sovereignty four detached fragments of her 
European possessions, namely, the portion of Roumelia east 
of Adrianople, the peninsula of Salonica, the turbulent districts 
of Albania and Thessaly, and the distant lands of Bosnia and 
Herzegovina. The new Bulgarian State was to be under Russian 
control for a period of two years. Secondly : Roumania, 
Servia, and Montenegro w r ere to be declared independent, and 
the two latter were to have accessions of territory which would 
almost bring their frontiers in contact, and would extend 
Montenegro to the sea. Thirdly : instead of an indemnity, 
Russia claimed the Dobrudscha, which she proposed to force 
upon Roumania in exchange for the slice of Bessarabia lost 
by the Treaty of Paris. Fourthly : reforms were to be 
guaranteed to the Armenian province of Asia Minor, while 
on the same frontier Russia appropriated the fortress of Kars, 
the port of Batoum, and certain other districts. 

A set of conditions more injudicious or more certain to 
alienate friends and foes alike could scarcely have been drafted. 
England saw Russian influence extended to the 
Mediterranean ; Austria recognised that her pro- 
gress to the JSgean was for ever barred ; Greece 
resented the extinction of her hopes of acquiring Macedonia ; 
Servia, jealous of the new Bulgarian State, despised her own 
meagre reward ; Roumania denounced the ingratitude which pro- 
posed to strip her of the fertile territory of Bessarabia. But 
the most serious obstacle to peace lay in the conflict between 
the British demand that the entire treaty should be submitted 
to the Congress and the natural suspicion and pride which 
withheld Russia from so indefinite a concession. War seemed 
all but certain, Lord Derby followed Lord Carnarvon into 
retirement, and the Prime Minister ordered eight Indian 
regiments and two batteries to reinforce the troops at Malta. 
But the Czar could not afford to fight England without the 
countenance of Austria. An agreement was arrived at in 
London between Lord Salisbury and the Russian ambassador 
on the understanding that the area of the new Bulgarian State 
should be considerably restricted. 

The " Big Bulgaria " scheme being thus abandoned, the way 
was clear for the Congress, in which Bismarck had promised to 

play the part of " honest broker " between the con- 
Berlm Congress, f '_%. r .. T -i i ^ t ^ A i 

tending parties. Indeed, the news ot the Anglo - 
Russian agreement leaked out and somewhat spoiled the dramatic 


interest of the Congress for those who believed the story in 
spite of official denials. In June, 1878, the chief ministers of 
the Great Powers met at Berlin, the Earl of Beaconsfield and 
the Marquis of Salisbury representing England, and here 
terms of peace were finally concluded. Bulgaria was limited 
to the area between the Danube and the Balkans. The 
suzerainty was to belong to the Sultan ; a prince was to be 
freely elected with his assent, who was not to be a member of a 
reigning house, and a Russian representative was to undertake 
the organisation of the government for the first nine months. 
The Bulgarian districts south of the Balkans with the name of 
Eastern Roumelia were to remain under the Sultan's authority 
exercised through a Christian Governor-General, an arrange- 
ment dictated by military considerations, the object being to 
provide Turkey with a secure mountain frontier. To Austria 
was granted the right of occupying and administering Bosnia 
and Herzegovina, as well as authority to maintain garrisons 
in the district of Novibazar, which parted Montenegro from 
Servia. These two latter States received their independence, 
but the territorial gains promised by the Treaty of San Stefano 
were much reduced ; and the former was prohibited from 
establishing a navy, however small, to protect her coastline. 
Since it was nobody's business to protect Roumania against 
her ally, she was forced to digest with the best grace she might 
the injustice of the Dobrudscha-Bessarabia exchange. As for 
the Greeks, who had only been kept out of the war by the 
promises of the Powers to bear their interests in mind, they 
were put off, owing to England's unwillingness to see Turkey 
further dismembered, with a recommendation to the Sultan's 
generosity. Definite promises were, however, exacted of 
reforms in Armenia and in Macedonia, and an undertaking 
that the Christians in those districts should enjoy adequate 
protection (July, 1878). 

It should be added that it was only after an abortive 
boundary commission and several conferences between the 
Powers that Greece secured in 1881 a rectification 
of frontier, which gave her Thessaly, but restricted 
her gains in Epirus to the district east of the Arta, 
contrary to the recommendations of the treaty. Even this 
result was only secured by a threat of vigorous action suggested 
by the Gladstone ministry for the solution of another problem. 
The Albanians had declined to abandon Dulcigno to Monte- 
negro, and remained unmoved by the application of " moral 



pressure " by the combined squadrons of the Powers in the 
shape of a " naval demonstration " off their coasts. The 
Porte professed its inability to secure the observance of the 
treaty. It was thereupon decided to act upon the British 
proposal and to offer the Sultan the choice between instant 
submission and the occupation of Smyrna by the Powers 
(1880). The Albanians were accordingly expelled by Turkish 
troops, and the question of the Greek frontier taken up in 
earnest and brought to a conclusion. 

Before the Congress broke up the plenipotentiaries had been 
treated to a startling surprise in the announcement of a special 
agreement already concluded between England 
an( * the P rte - By tnis instrument, known as the 
Cyprus Convention, Great Britain undertook to 
assist in the defence of the Sultan's territories in Asia Minor 
in consideration of a promise on his part to introduce proper 
reforms in those districts. She was to be permitted to occupy 
Cyprus as a convenient base of action so long as Russia retained 
her conquests on the Armenian frontier, and was to pay to the 
Sultan the annual surplus of the revenue of the island over 
expenditure. The arrangement was a great diplomatic and 
personal triumph for Beaconsfield, and no doubt helped to swell 
the enthusiasm with which his boast that he had brought home 
" Peace with Honour " was received by the shouting crowds at 
Charing Cross and outside Downing Street. But Cyprus has 
proved^of little strategic value for the protection of the sea road 
to India, and what little it ever possessed for that purpose has 
disappeared with the British occupation of Egypt. It may 
possibly in the future enable England to assert her views in 
the development of Asia Minor, but for the time being its 
acquisition saddled her with a special responsibility for the 
protection of the Armenian Christians quite beyond her power 
to fulfil, a responsibility which was to put the nation in a 
painful dilemma between the promptings of conscience on the 
one hand and every consideration of expediency on the other. 
The underhand character of the negotiations were felt to be 
a stain on England's reputation for fair dealing, and un- 
doubtedly contributed to the misrepresentation to which she 
was subsequently quite unfairly exposed. 

Much the same criticism may be passed on Beaconsfield's 
Eastern policy as a whole. While his opposition to the Treaty 
of San Stefano was necessary and justifiable, the situation 
was to a great extent the direct consequence of his own 


refusal to co-operate against Turkey, nor was his later action 
such as to secure a satisfactory settlement. He had not pre- 
served the integrity of Turkey, nor done anything to strengthen 
her. He had not even won her gratitude, for he 

had taken his place in the end among her criticism of 

i A i i i j j -nil Beaconsflelds 

spoilers. And he had made for England one policy. 

bitter foe, whose persistent enmity and whose 
power of inflicting injury, or, at least, of causing alarm, 
was to be counted on against her in every passing quarrel, 
and was to cast the shadow of irresolution over her counsels. 
If Germany entered the new period of armaments and world 
politics haunted by the spectre of French revenge upon the 
Rhine, England, no less distracted, was to go upon her 
way starting at every sound of Russian footsteps behind 
the barrier of the Hindu Kush. 





IN January, 1878, died Victor Emmanuel II, first King of 
United Italy, and in February, Pio Nono, the last Pope who 
ever wielded the Temporal Power, followed him 

,, rm U. T The New Era. 

to the grave. The simultaneous disappearance 
from the political stage of two figures so typical respectively of 
the new and of the old order was singularly appropriate, and 
marked the conclusion of an era. The Old Europe of the 
Vienna Treaties was no more, and the King had lived to see 
his liberated country accepted as a full member of the new 
State system, while the Pope seemed only to have survived the 
publication of the Encyclical and the Syllabus to exemplify in 
his own person the impotence of his hostility to the principles 
upon which the modern order of Europe was to be founded. 
The questions which divided men in 1848 had been settled, 
the war-cries of the Year of Revolution had lost their signifi- 
cance, the national aspirations of the fifties and sixties had run 
their course to the several issues of triumph, compromise, or 
failure, and Napoleon III, alike the presiding genius and the 
most conspicuous victim of the process of reconstruction, was 
himself already dead. 

The national units of Europe stood complete. Everywhere 
the outstanding questions between parties and between 
peoples had been submitted to a decisive trial of 
strength. Italy was an independent kingdom ; The European 
Germany a united and powerful Empire ; Austria pCte c 
had evolved a compromise between contending 
national interests ; Spain was a Constitutional Monarchy 


France, a parliamentary Republic ; the Balkan peninsula had 
been parcelled out into independent or semi-independent 
Christian States ; the Turkish power had gained another 
prolongation of its corrupt existence. 

Moreover, there had appeared since 1870 a new phenomenon 

in Europe which, paradoxically enough, provided the strongest 

possible guarantee for the permanence of the new 

Armaments. - 1 - . mi , i V , t i , 

system. Ihe triumph ot Prussia had proved to 
the world that no success in modern warfare is to be antici- 
pated which has not been carefully prepared for in time 
of peace. The highly trained troops, the overwhelming 
numbers, the weapons and war material of the latest pattern 
with which victory is alone to be purchased, even the very 
plans of campaigns to all appearances unlikely, must stand 
ready, while the diplomatic sky is yet unclouded, for the 
sudden emergency which brings swift ruin upon the unprepared 
nation. France, taught by experience, imposed the burden 
of conscription upon her people to avert another catastrophe 
like that of 1870, while she nursed the hope of a not too distant 
revenge ; Germany maintained her armies, alike to secure the 
Prussian predominance within her borders and for fear of France 
without ; Austria, Russia, and Italy could not be indifferent to 
the military preparations of their neighbours. " The pike in the 
European fish-pond," as Bismarck put it in later years, "prevent 
us from becoming carp." Even England, by Cardwell's army 
reforms, had established the short-service system with the 
object of providing a large trained reserve (1871). 

Hence the period upon which we are entering has been an 
age of gigantic armaments ; and historians and journalists 

alike have been loud in condemning the burden 
armaments! f and the waste both of money and effort which 

they have involved. Such criticisms may very 
easily be overdone. It is impossible at a time when un- 
employment is recognised as one of the worst diseases of the 
modern body politic to take very seriously the oft-repeated 
objection to conscription that it withdraws large numbers of 
capable workmen from productive industry, except in so far 
as the capital, itself withdrawn from productive industry by 
taxation, might have sufficed to furnish new employment. 
It is just at this point that the criticism becomes cogent, and 
not even the most thorough-going admirer of the Services as a 
school of the manly virtues, nor the most convinced believer 
in the supreme importance of national defence can be blind 


to the immense financial strain and the essential wastefulness 
of modern military and naval expenditure. 

But there is another side to the question. Much has been 
written about the nightmare of fear in which these warlike 
preparations have kept the nations of Europe. 
Such fears, however disturbing, have proved not 
a little salutary. For more than thirty years no 
collision has taken place between first-class Powers, though 
occasions of friction have been perhaps as frequent as in any 
previous period of the world's history. These years have 
witnessed the absorption by the European peoples of immense 
territories in distant continents, amid trade rivalries far more 
acute than those which helped to make the similar expansion 
of the eighteenth century one drama of almost continuous 
warfare. The armed struggles of the period have arisen in 
cases where apparent weakness has constituted a standing 
temptation to superior strength, either between Powers 
whose inequality was from the outset manifest, as in the case 
of the Spanish- American War (p. 479), or where there has been 
serious miscalculation of the comparative resources of the 
combatants, as in Russia's attempt to coerce Japan (p. 492). 
Experience proves that citizen and statesman alike recoil from 
the prospect of a war whose issues are uncertain, while both 
are too ready to pay the price for an assured success. It is 
not too much to say that if such influences had been in operation 
in 1870 there would have been no Franco-Prussian war ; it 
might even be possible to cast up an account showing that 
armed peace has entailed less cost than must have attended 
the struggles which it has averted. Moreover, it seems as 
certain as anything in the future can be that if ever the ideal 
of universal peace is realised it will not be through the efforts 
of peace societies, or the mutual forbearance of journalists, or 
even by acts of complaisance on the part of one Power towards 
another, but through the conviction being forced by sheer 
weight of figures upon all the Powers alike that the modern 
State with its infinite responsibilities cannot afford to main- 
tain in perfection the elaborate mechanism of modern war. 
And if this be so, history will hereafter observe a wise for- 
bearance in passing judgment upon the period of transition. 

While Peace and Permanence were thus the characteristics 
of inter-European relations, the activities and ambitions of 
the Great Powers were driven to seek those wider horizons to 
which they were being already directed by other influences 


long since at work. It is scarcely too much to say that the 
history of Europe henceforward becomes the history of the world. 

w id P IT ^ e steamsni P an ^ tne ra il wa y were every day 
' bringing nearer to Europe the untrodden recesses 
of the continents and the most distant islands of the sea. 
Commerce, armed with improved means of production, and 
stimulated by the rising standard of comfort at home, was seek- 
ing new fields for its enterprise along the new world-highways, 
while the protective tariffs, by means of which the Continental 
Powers strove to provide employment at home for their expand- 
ing populations, drove the manufacturer in every European 
State to seek distant markets for his surplus output. All at 
once men's eyes were opened to the value of colonies, of oversea 
markets, of the sea-power which safeguarded the access to both. 
And almost simultaneously continental Europe realised with a 
sudden pang of jealousy that Britain, almost by accident, had 
stolen a march upon the world, and stood already possessed 
of those advantages which were to constitute the elements of 
national greatness in the coming epoch. 

We have already taken occasion to remark the dawn of 
popular interest at home in the British possessions across the 
sea, and the growing appreciation of their actual 
Empire^ 18 * 1 an d potential value among Englishmen them- 
selves. Indeed, the national inheritance was 
one which might justly awaken national pride, even if it must be 
admitted that the new-found Imperial patriotism too often 
expressed itself in vulgar and exaggerated forms. Since the 
Sikh War, which ended in 1849, and Lord Dalhousie's extensive 
annexations, no power had existed in India which could 
question British authority, while the storms of the Mutiny 
had only served to prove how firmly it was rooted, and to 
transfer the last vestiges of the East India Company's powers 
to the Crown. The proclamation of Queen Victoria as 
Kaisar-i-Hind, or Empress of India, in July, 1877, by the 
advice of the Beaconsfield Ministry, a step which was greeted 
with a good deal of sentimental and ill-informed denunciation 
at home, undoubtedly helped to materialise for the native 
imagination an ill-defined foreign rule, and to invest it with 
an appearance of legality and permanence. Across the 
Atlantic the Canadian provinces had secured unity and self- 
government in 1840, as the result of Lord Durham's Vice- 
royalty, and in 1867 had developed into the Dominion of 
Canada, a great federal union of self-governing province^ 


which by 1872 comprised all British North America, with the 
exception of Newfoundland. In the Southern Seas the 
separate colonies of Australia had all received representative 
government by 1856, while the various settlements in New 
Zealand were united as one colony with similar institutions in 
1875. A year earlier, in 1874, self-government had been con- 
ceded to the mixed British and Dutch population of Cape Colony, 
and by 1877 there had even been talk of a federation which was 
to include the outlying colony of Natal and the Dutch settle- 
ments, to be noticed later. England retained her possessions 
in the West Indian islands, and on the mainland of South 
America, though their prosperity had sadly fallen off with the 
decline of the sugar industry resulting from the abolition of 
slavery and the competition of European beet-sugar. The older 
route to the Far East, as well as the newer line of communi- 
cation by way of the Suez Canal, was marked at every stage 
by British ports or islands, of which it will be sufficient to 
mention St. Helena, Walfisch Bay, Mauritius, Ceylon, Singa- 
pore, and Hong Kong ; while the presence of British squadrons 
in the China Seas and in the Persian Gulf secured the pre- 
ponderance of our interests in those waters. 

But public opinion, though conscious at length of the 
existence of the Empire, alive to its more obvious advantages, 
and perhaps even prone to set too high a value 
upon it from merely sentimental considerations, Jf e 
had not properly appreciated the responsibilities 
which it entailed or the changes which it imposed upon our 
traditional foreign policy. Greater Britain wa^ not merely 
Great Britain writ large. The Empire was not an island, and 
it possessed extensive land frontiers, which were destined, 
through the enterprise of other Powers, to march with the 
territories of rival Empires. The self-contained isolation of 
the earlier nineteenth century was no longer possible, nor its 
indifference to continental combinations. Nor was this all. 
The possession of oversea dependencies imposed upon foreign 
nations the necessity of creating and maintaining war-fleets. 
Sooner or later these would inevitably bestow the power of 
menacing the internal communications of a widely-scattered 
maritime Empire. The days of Canning and of Palmers ton 
had gone never to return. 

It was because the conditions of the New Era were im- 
perfectly understood that successive governments displayed 
jbut little either of foresight or of enterprise in dealing with the 


multitude of new problems which cried aloud for solution from 
every quarter of the globe where British interests came in con- 
tact with opposing forces. Responsibilities were 
BriSsh e poi?c f y. to often light -hear tedly assumed without due 
consideration of the consequences. Still more 
frequently the home government, after paltering with vital 
issues, found itself dragged unwillingly into action so belated 
as to entail the minimum of success with the maximum of 
friction, or took refuge in a policy of passive acquiescence 
calculated to encourage the belief abroad that British interests 
might be safely disregarded. To the same cause may be traced 
the popular impatience with oversea difficulties and disasters, 
and the tendency to require more of the ministry of the day 
than they were capable of performing within the limitations 
of a foreign policy whose principles both government and 
people regarded as axiomatic. Thus British action abroad 
was alike hesitating and spasmodic, and Matthew Arnold's 
description of his country as a " Weary Titan " scarcely 
exaggerates the perplexity of the harassed Imperial Power. 

In 1878, if we may neglect the French conquests in Algeria 
and in Cochin China, there was only one other European 
nation besides England which had committed 
Empire ssian herself to a policy of Imperial expansion. Russia 
had long since set out with deliberate purpose and 
calculated confidence upon the path into which Great Britain 
had been unconsciously directed by circumstances, and which 
she now followed with infinite hesitations. As the sea had 
led the British sailor and merchant to distant islands and 
coasts, so the vast plains of the Asiatic continent lay open to 
the march of the Russian armies, through Central Asia towards 
the Indian frontier and across Siberia to the Far East. The 
beginnings of the Russian land empire in Asia date back to 
times when the Elizabethan adventurers were embarking upon 
those voyages which were to open up the seas to English 
enterprise, and its foundations were firmly laid while England's 
footing in America and in India was still precarious. Before 
Peter the Great acquired the Baltic provinces, before 
Catharine II had claimed the lion's share of dismembered 
Poland, or had added the shores of the Black Sea to her 
Empire, Russia had set out upon that eastward march to which 
her geographical situation and the half Oriental characteristics 
of her race had predestined her. The gentle slopes of the 
Urals presented no serious obstacle, and in Western Siberia 


beyond the mountain range lay a region rich in the furs 
which formed one of the staples of Russian trade, and peopled 
by ill-organised tribes whose weakness invited, and whose 
predatory habits almost compelled interference. 

Chance set in motion the train of events which destiny had 
prepared. In 1580, the year in which Drake completed his 
famous voyage round the world, another adven- 
turer, Yermak by name, fled towards the wilder- 
ness from the justice of the Czar for acts of piracy 
committed on the Volga. On the river Kama, close to the 
Siberian frontier, dwelt a family of traders, named Stroganoff, 
who engaged the services of the outlaw and his band to 
forward their fur-trading enterprises beyond the Urals ; and 
before he perished in the waters of the Irtish, after several 
years of desperate fighting with the Tartar tribes, Yermak had 
won the Czar's pardon and brought the whole of the country 
west of that river under the Imperial authority. Further and 
further eastward the Russian fur-trader followed the sable, 
and in advance of the fur-trader spread in an ever-widening 
protective circle the Cossack settlements. For, from the first, 
the Czars had adopted the policy of covering their eastern 
provinces with military settlements of irregular horse, formed 
out of those elements among their subjects whom misfortune, 
misconduct, or the spirit of adventure drove out from civilisation 
to the wild life of the frontier. Thus, step by step, the advance 
continued till before the end of the seventeenth century the 
Russian outposts had reached the eastern ocean at Okhotsk, 
and had penetrated into Kamchatka northwards, and to the river 
Amur to the south. And it is perhaps some evidence of the 
ease with which these conquests were effected that even the 
helpless Chinese Empire, the only organised power with which 
the Russian pioneers had as yet come in contact, should have 
succeeded in imposing a veto upon any advance beyond the 
last-named river by the Treaty of Nertchinsk, in 1689. Then 
came Peter the Great, and for 150 years his countrymen turned 
their faces westwards. 

But, as a recent writer has put it, the course of Russia's 
expansion has been towards the warm water, " east half 
south ; " and the Amur could not remain the Muravief 
boundary of her ambitions for ever. In 1847, 
the Czar Nicholas appointed General Muravief Governor- 
General of Eastern Siberia. During a memorable governor- 
ship of sixteen years he founded Petropavlosk on tjie coast of 


Kamchatka, which defied an attack of the allied fleet during 
the Crimean War ; secured the control of the Amur by building 
Nicolaievsk at its mouth ; and, having gained from China 
the entire coast-line north of Korea by the Convention of 
Aigun (1858), he chose the site of Russia's new naval base in 
the Far East by the shores of a magnificent natural harbour, 
and, confident in its destiny, bestowed upon it the proud 
name of Vladivostok, " the Dominion of the East." 

It was not only upon the shores of the Pacific that Russian 

expansion had taken the " half